


Hellion

by dailymantra



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: AU: Everything is Awful, F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dailymantra/pseuds/dailymantra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>True Cross Academy is gone. The Gate of Gehenna has been opened. The young exorcists have split after Yukio makes a decision that costs countless lives in order to save the world and his brother. In the process the lives of the students are changed for good.</p>
<p>Seven years later the fight against the demon hords continues on, but Yukio's time is running out. Meanwhile, Rin has had to step up and make certain agreements that endanger his future. Bon and Izumo return from Kyoto bearing bad news and Satan makes a move that disrupts the fabric of the universe and tears a deeper gouge between the brothers than ever before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seven Years Prior

Yukio Okumura held the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. There was a heartbreaking click. Another. A third. Again, again, again. Tears began to roll down his cheeks as his chest heaved with shuddering breaths. He had no bullets left. There was not going to be an easy way out for him. No, for Yukio Okumura there was only facing the consequences of his actions. 

He dropped the useless weapon and held up his broken right hand. The fingers were crushed and deformed, the index and thumb mangled beyond recognition. With his good hand, he started to unbutton his blood covered shirt. It was dry and stiffened the material like starch. It crusted and rubbed off on his fingers. How much of it was his own? How much his brother’s? And the demons? Whatever, it didn’t matter, he just wanted it off him and away. 

_How much blood have you shed?_

Yukio flinched and held his head. The voice pounded with an intensity that throbbed through his entire skull. A sharp pain stabbed the base of his head and he dropped to his knees.

“Please. No more.” His broken fingers were on fire, burning with blue flame. He pressed the crippled hand to his chest. The fire didn’t burn him, it spread across his chest like water.

_Where is your heart, Exorcist?_

Bright blue flames trickled over Yukio’s shoulders and lapped around his waist. They consumed every inch of his body, sending a straining ache through his muscles. It didn’t hurt like he wanted it to hurt. It felt good, familiar, and despite everything it tickled a smile across his lips. 

_Is this you, Exorcist?_

“I am not...” Yukio closed his eyes and squeezed his crippled fingers. The red hot pain that streaked through him made him drop to the ground in a huddle. The fire dimmed and died completely. “I am no exorcist.”

_You’ve given up._

“I’ve earned it,” Yukio whispered through the hurt.

“Yuki-chan!” 

That voice tore more deeply into his heart than any blade could. She sounded afraid, tired, concerned for him. He stayed quiet, hidden behind some rubble that had once been True Cross Academy. 

“Yuki-chan! Please!” There was such a deep sorrow in her voice, such a desperation, that Yukio trembled and wished once again he’d had enough bullets to finish the job. Light and timid footsteps crunched through broken glass near him and he could hear her murmurs.

“Please be alright. Please be okay. Please be alive. I’m scared. I have to be strong. I’m so scared.” She raised her shaky voice again. “Yuki-chan!”

How many games of hide-and-seek had he won when they were children? He ducked his head and prayed that she’d overlook him again, now that he wanted it. 

“Yuki-chan.” Her breath of relief washed over him and he looked up. Shiemi was bloody and bruised. A large gash above her right eye was dribbling down the side of her face. Her shirt was torn and burned and there were razor thin cuts all along her arms and neck. When she raised a hand to him it was blue and yellow, swollen fingers. 

“I’m so glad you’re alright.” Her voice was tight, choked with emotion. Tears fell down her face and onto him and she collapsed into him in a pained hug. “I was so afraid I’d lost you.”

“Shiemi,” he said her name slowly and was startled by how dry his voice sounded. “Are you...are you hurt?”

Shiemi sat back and wiped her eyes. She was smiling and it almost made her look like her usual self. “I’m fine.”

“And Nii—uh, Rin?” Yukio accepted her hand and the two of them got to their feet.

“He’s been unconscious for hours but whatever you did, it worked.” She stared over his shoulder, fear returning to her eyes. “Mostly.”

Yukio turned around and finally faced what he’d been hiding from. The gate of Gehenna, a gaping mouth suspended in the dark sky overhead the remains of True Cross. It was all his fault. All the people who were dead, all the destruction, all the pain, it was on him.

Shiemi squeezed his hand and he glanced down at her.

“I’m going to try very hard not to be scared, Yuki-chan,” she said slowly. “You’ll do the same won’t you?”

Yukio untangled his fingers from hers and picked up his gun. “Of course,” he said, unsure if he meant it. 

“We need to get back to the others,” Shiemi tiptoed over the rubble. “Come on.”

He waited, watching as demons continued to pour from Gehenna into the world he’d thought he might be able to protect once. Yukio held up his gun, pointed it at the portal and pulled the trigger. The empty click rang in his ears. He tossed the gun aside and followed after Shiemi.

* * *

 

“This is all your fault.” Bon threw another blow and it hit Yukio on the cheek, sending him spiraling backwards onto his broken hand. Against his best efforts, he cried out in pain.

“Bon, stop.” Shima was standing aside, arms crossed. “There’s no point to this.”

“Hundreds of people are dead and more are dying,” Bon screamed, at Shima and then Yukio. “Innocents. Students. Our friends, the people we are supposed to protect.”

“I did the logical thing,” Yukio lied, getting up against his better judgement. “Not what was right, but what saved the most lives. Compared to the whole world, a few dead students is not that great of a loss.”

“Any loss of life is a failure! We’re supposed to protect people, not sacrifice them, you monster!” Bon launched himself forward for another attack. Shima stepped between them and looked his friend dead in the eye.

“Enough. You’re behaving like a child when we need to be men. Like you said, people are dead. We can’t change that. We need to be thinking about our next course of action.” Shima looked around the dorm room. Rin and Yukio’s old building was one of the last standing structures and where the cram school students had taken up a semi-permanent residence. Shiemi had set up a nursing area in the dining room down the hall. She barely left, staying by Rin waiting for him to wake up. 

Shima’s eyes settled on Izumo who was sitting in a corner holding Paku’s sweater. Tears were rolling down her face, but she was statue still. Miwa handed Yukio an ice pack.

“Renzou’s right, Ryuji,” Miwa said softly. “Fighting amongst ourselves doesn’t help anything. We need to stay strong.”

Bon flexed his hands and curled them into fists. “No. I can’t just stand by and let his injustice stand. Not with what he did to Okumura, or to us. Shima your eye—”

“I’m fine.” Shima’s right eye was cloudy and though he refused to say anything it had been getting hazier. Soon he wouldn’t be able to see out of it at all. “We’ve all suffered pain and lose, Bon. Even Yukio.”

“You’re going to defend him, then? Both of you?” Bon looked from Shima to Miwa and gave a bitter laugh. “So we’re picking sides then?”

“Bon, please don’t do this,” Shima pleaded.

“Ryuji is right,” Miwa said. Shima turned on him.

“What?”

“I respect what Yukio chose to do, but I can’t condone it. It’s just not right, Renzuo.” Miwa patted his friend affectionately on the arm. “And I will always choose my family and Kyoto over anything else.”

Yukio stood quietly, holding the ice pack to his hand. He tried to preoccupy his mind with how he was going to set the bones and whether he could talk Shiemi through it. Still he could feel Bon’s eyes on him.

“Alright, I’m leaving.” Bon pulled on his jacket, cringing as he flexed his previously dislocated shoulder.

“What? Where?” Shima stared in disbelief. This wasn’t fair, he couldn’t choose between his friends, not when they were like family to him.

“Home, to Kyoto. They’re going to need help and I need to know if my mother and father...” Bon cleared his throat. “I need to make sure.”

“I’m going too,” Miwa said. Bon gave him an approving nod.

“You can’t just leave,” Shima said, his chest burning. Panic was surging through him and it was only accented as his right eye faded further into darkness.

“I can’t stay here with him, either,” Bon said, jerking his thumb in Yukio’s direction. “Sorry. Take care of yourself, Renzuo.”

“Wait.” Everyone turned to look at Izumo. She used the wall to help herself stand, still clutching Paku’s sweater to her chest. “I’m going to go with you.”

“Izumo,” Shima’s voice was broken. 

She didn’t look at anyone. Instead she carefully pulled the sweater on and did it up slowly, pulling her hair out of her collar. “I refuse to fight alongside a monster. Okumura was different...Rin, he was still human, despite everything.” She turned her cold, dry eyes on Yukio. “You, you’re not human. Not in the slightest.”

Bon clapped a hand on Shima’s shoulder. “You’re staying then?”

Shima shrugged his hand off and nodded. Miwa shook his hand before following Bon out of the room and Izumo stopped in front of Shima. She gave him a hug and whispered in his ear as Yukio stood awkwardly aside. Whatever she said made Shima turn bright red. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and said a final goodbye.

_This is what you’ve done, Exorcist._

Yukio watched them leave, wishing there was something he could do or say but they weren’t wrong. He had no innocence to argue for.

“We’ll defeat the demons and close the gate,” Shima said when they were finally alone. “And then we’ll be a family again. Does that sound like a plan?”

He looked at Yukio, not with hope but ambition. 

_What are you to do, Exorcist?_

“Of course. We’ll defeat the demons, for our family.” Yukio thought of Shiemi and Rin. Everything he did was for his brother, for the people he loved, but it always hurt them. If this was to be his penance then he would serve for his sins.

_Where is your heart, Exorcist?_ Shiro’s voice interrupted Yukio’s thoughts again.

He held his broken hand over his chest. He could feel his heart beat, and yet he felt anything but alive.


	2. Seven Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izumo and Bon return to True Cross, things even worse than before.

The dice stopped for a moment before toppling and displaying six white dots. Renzuo Shima sighed and closed his eyes. With a crack, a fist connected with his jaw and sent him tumbling backwards. Sprawled on the ground Shima lay winded. When he opened his eyes The Duke was standing over him, a long string of saliva hanging from his mouth. It swung inches from Shima’s face, a putrid yellow colour. The Duke slurped it back up and shook his head.

“I’m a nice guy,” he said, kicking Shima in the ribs. Shima doubled over in pain, curling into a ball on his side. He wheezed as The Duke punched him in the shoulder. “I’m a nice guy, but I’ve got my limits, buddy. You keep fucking with me, Shima. That’s not gonna fly.”

The Duke spit all the mucus he could muster into Shima’s faded hair. It had been pink once, but now it was a dirty mess of dark to dusty rose tips. The Duke’s tobacco venom dripped down Shima’s forehead and he wiped it from his eyebrows.

“I can get money,” he said, propping himself on his elbow. “Probably.”

The Duke laughed himself into a coughing fit. Shima flinched as he felt his bruised ribs. At least he wasn’t bleeding. Bleeding was obvious and obvious would get him in trouble when he got back home. Well, at this point it was more of an _if_ he got back home. The Duke flicked his wrist and a blade shot out. 

“I’m tying up loose ends, Shima. Cutting my losses.” The Duke sniffed and stepped forward, twirling the blade. “Too bad for you.”

“Please.” Shima couldn’t keep the pathetic whine out of his voice. “I have a family. I have people I need to take care of.”

“They aren’t your concern right now, trust me.”

Shima staggered to his feet as The Duke approached. He was backed into the end of the alley, surrounded by garbage and cardboard boxes. It stank and he was going to die in this stink. All over a stupid game of dice. All because he had no self control. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, stinging as they salted open wounds. Funny. He was bleeding. At least now he wouldn’t get in trouble for it.

“Renzuo.”

Shima froze, his stomach dropping, heartbeat slowing to a crawl. It was like being injected with a tranquilizer just hearing that voice again. He stared over The Duke’s shoulder at the figure standing at the opposite end of the alleyway. They were hooded, it was impossible to see their face, but Shima could already picture it. The forehead creased in a scowl, mouth set in a rigid line.

“Suguro...” There was a hitch in Shima’s voice as The Duke’s blade dug into his stomach. He twisted the knife, tearing up Shima’s insides. Blood seeped through Shima’s shirt, dripped to a pool around his feet. His sight began to fade, he collapsed to the ground, holding his stomach together as best he could. Yet another familiar voice prickled his ears.

“ _I humbly call the Gods of Harvest. Follow my wishes, leave none unfulfilled!_ ”

Despite everything, Shima smiled at the sound of her voice. He’d missed it over the years. It was soothing when she wasn’t shouting at him.

With unison snarls, Izumo’s Byakko lunged at The Duke as he turned. There was a brief yelp before Uke tore his throat out and he tumbled to the ground in front of Shima. Mike and Uke continued their attack until Izumo tore her magic circles, letting the light paper flutter free in the wind. She ran past Ryuji, stepped over The Duke’s gurgling corpse, and flung herself at Shima. She was shaking.

“You’re an idiot and I hate you,” she murmured in his ear, holding him in a tight embrace. “Lying about having a family.”

“I missed you too.” As much as he wanted to return her affection, Shima couldn’t stand to move, the pain of his stomach wound white hot. His breathing was ragged. Izumo’s lips brushed his cheek quickly, as though she was hoping he wouldn’t notice it.

“We’re gonna take care of you, alright?”

Shima nodded but his eye was on Ryuji Suguro, tracking him as he approached. He kicked The Duke’s body, rolling it over.

“On second thought, maybe we should leave you to learn from your mistakes, Shima.” Ryuji’s expression was cold, his face stony.

“When did you decide to grow a beard?” Shima winced as Izumo helped him up. “It looks awful. You look like an old man.”

Ryuji shook his head and jabbed a finger towards the body between them. “You think this is a joke, you idiot? More people die every day than I or Izumo can save—”

“You make it sound like we’re not doing anything to help,” Shima cut in.

“You do nothing because you’re afraid.” Ryuji’s lip curled up in a snarl. “You all sit around planning action and never follow through.”

“We don’t want anymore needless deaths,” Shima protested. He gasped and pressed a hand against his wound. Blood seeped between his fingers. Izumo looked worriedly to Ryuji.

“This can wait,” she hissed.

Ryuji waved her off and grabbed Shima by the chin. He yanked him forward, staring into his eyes, noses inches apart.

“Wake up, Renzuo. You’re not allowed to be a coward anymore.”

“You were the one who ran away.” Shima met Ryuji’s eyes with unwavering defiance. He had nothing to prove to him anymore. He was done playing those old games.

Izumo stepped between them, hooking Shima’s arm over her shoulders and taking the brunt of his weight.

“Enough,” she snapped. “We need to get out of here before nightfall and at this pace we’re going to take a while. Suguro, take care of the body.”

With a grunt, Ryuji pulled a flask of gasoline out of his jacket and proceeded douse The Duke. Izumo led Shima away before Ryuji struck a match.

“So you can’t tell me it’s a coincidence you two popped up when you did,” Shima said. He did his best to ignore the wafting scent of fat and hair burning. Ryuji fell into step beside them, silently keeping a militaristic stride.

“If I said that really was the case, would you believe me?” Izumo shifted Shima’s weight on her neck with a grunt. “We were honestly just hoping to find anyone, maybe get an in back into True Cross.”

Shima stopped dead in his tracks. He glanced from Ryuji to Izumo. “You want back in? Back in to what? There’s nothing left.”

“Then what exactly has been keeping you here?” Ryuji gestured to what was left of the city that surrounded the academy. It was utter desolation, a warzone that had long been closed off to the outside world. But all action had been taken too late. Even after several months the whole city still stank of rotting flesh. Fires burned and demons stalked the shadows and owned the night. As they emerged from the alleyway the gate to Gehenna stared down at them from where True Cross Academy once stood.

“Welcome back,” Shima scoffed.

Izumo stood for a moment, jaw slack, staring at the remains of the school she had once called home. Next to her Ryuji shook his head and nudged her forward.

“Come on. Like you said, we need to get out of here before nightfall.”

 

* * *

 

Izumo grasped Shima by the shoulder and shoved him back against the floor.

“Stay still,” she commanded for the third time. The dingy apartment was empty save for the tiny fire Ryuji had started in a trashcan, the only source of light.

“You’re killing me,” Shima coughed, a burning hot pang of pain erupting in his belly.

“Hush,” she murmured. She placed a gentle hand on his forehead as she finished cleaning his wound. “You’re lucky the damage isn’t that bad. I can stitch you up no problem, you nuisance.”

Izumo moved to throw the used gauze away but Shima caught her hand. It was warm from working, but her face looked so pale and cold.

“Thank you.”

“Shut up. I still need to sew you together.”

Shima squeezed her hand. “I missed you.”

She blinked in surprise, staring down at him. He still had such a soft face, even still kind eyes, the right one faded and milky. It seemed impossible to her, to still look so human. And yet she didn’t put it past him to still have that ability to stay empathetic or to maintain a sense of humour even.

“I missed the way you smell,” he said softly.

“Stop.” Izumo pulled her hand away and flipped open her medical kit. She couldn’t have shaky hands for this. She pulled out a needle and thread.

“I really missed the feel of your hands.”

“This might sting a little.” The needle bit into Shima’s soft flesh and he moaned. Izumo continued stitching despite the noises he made and she kept her hand steady despite herself. Focus, focus. When she finished she pressed a bandage over the suture, her fingers dusting lightly over Shima’s lower torso.

“Yeah, that’s the touch I missed.” Shima grinned at her and her cheeks flushed.

Izumo tugged his shirt back down to cover any temptation.

“I appreciate you not taking advantage of me in my enfeebled state,” Shima joked, his hand tracing her cheek. “You’re a much sweeter nurse than Okumura ever was.”

Izumo frowned. “Yukio?”

Shima nodded.

“You still trust him?” She caught herself and chewed her lower lip. “We thought maybe you’d all come around after the second attack on the city. But you stayed, like you said you would. We all thought...you’re family was worried.”

“Are they alright?”

Izumo nodded. “Kinzuo rescued an entire pre-school on the first day of the gate opening and he’s been taking care of them ever since. He has a hoard of forty-something children following him around no matter where he goes.”

“I’m not surprised,” Shima said with a smile. “And everyone else?”

“Tatsuma insisted that Miwa stay behind to help strategize. And he wanted us to come back and do some recon.” Izumo brushed hair out of her eyes. “Bon agreed only to check on Yukio, I’m sure.”

Shima tried to sit up again and this time Izumo didn’t try to stop him. “Things were—are complicated. Last time we saw him, Moriyama and he had a blow up, kinda, heh, kinda like me and Bo—Suguro.” Shima glanced down at his feet then back up at Izumo with a smile. “Anyways, we’re not sure where he’s gone. Rin’s decided that it’s better if we just give him time, hope he comes back on his own. But we don’t need to talk about that.”

He rested a hand on her shoulder, slowly sidling it up the back of her neck. She closed her eyes as his fingers curled in the tangles of her matted purple hair. She leaned in even as he gingerly pulled her forward. Their breath mingled as their lips parted, ever so slightly, meeting with trepidation. The tastes were foreign now, so unfamiliar that it drove a sharp spear of wanting through Shima. He wanted to recognize Izumo’s flavour again, an exotic spice he couldn’t place. He needed to inhale her smell, the tingle of something distinct behind the sweet fragrance of sweat.

He tilted his head, their noses brushing, and something wet hit his cheek. Shima pulled away reluctantly and slowly opened his eyes. Izumo hastily wiped away her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be. You did what you thought was right.”

She shook her head. “I did what I _know_ was right.”

He gave her a meek smile but she turned away, packing up her medical kit.

“It’s probably a good idea for you to get some rest. Suguro and I will be headed out for food in a few hours, just before dawn. You’re not to leave until we get back, understood?” She phrased it as a question, but Shima knew better. It was an order, not an option.

“Understood.”

“And Renzuo, when we get back he’s going to...” Izumo stood, clearing her throat. “Ryuji is going to want to have a word with you.”

“What’s new?”

“Just tell him what he wants to know, alright?” Not an order, but a plea.

“What could he possibly want to know?”

Izumo suddenly refused to meet his gaze. She hurried for the door and disappeared from his sight once again. Shima lay back down. He needed to gather his strength because there was no way he could still be here when they got back.


	3. Stronger Days

Shiemi Moriyama crossed her arms and sat down staring at the maps that coated the wall of the small apartment. Every day more sections were coloured in red, forming a tight barrier around the city that spawned from the Gehenna gate and they were stuck in the middle of it, just like always. She tugged a hair tie off her wrist and pulled back her long blonde hair. It felt strange having long hair, her mother had always kept it short for easy maintenance. At the thought of her mother, Shiemi glanced at the scribbled out section of the map where her home had once stood. There were too many places on the map she recognized but would never be able to return to.

She bent over, holding her calves and resting her forehead on her knees. There were never anymore tears, she’d used them all up. Shamefully most of them had been shed pitying her own situation. Nii-chan pet her fingers gently and she looked up with an attempt at a smile in place. She picked up the little green man and cuddled him for a moment, eyes scanning the maps. Where would he go?

“There you are,” Rin stood in the doorway, concern creasing his brow. “I was worried you’d run off too.”

“That’s not funny,” Shiemi said gruffly, bristling as he walked over to her. Rin pulled a chair away from a table and sat down across from her. There was a long silence between them, similar to the first night they’d slept together. Shiemi, lacking any idea of what else to do, had lain still beneath Rin, doing her best not to move as he pressed into her eagerly. She remembered that quiet unlike any other silence before it. The cold creaks of the bed, Rin’s exerted grunts, all the while in her head she told herself she loved him and no one else.

“I’m not trying to be funny.” He put a hand on her knee. “I know you feel—”

“Of course I feel responsible. I’m the reason he left. I was so stupid, but I was just so angry and he wouldn’t see how foolish he was being.” Shiemi balled her fist, her face red and blotchy. She still couldn’t cry. “I know we can’t do this without him.”

“You’re underestimating me, huh?” Rin smirked.

She stared at him, heart racing. “I just don’t want you to die.”

“Shiemi...”

“Everyone keeps dying and I can’t cry anymore, no matter how hard I try the tears won’t come. All I can do is fight and survive and I’m numb. And I know that this is what Yuki-chan feels all the time. I know that he’s sad in his heart, for what he did.” Shiemi put a hand over her heart and looked Rin in the eyes. “Do you understand? Yukio can’t survive without us. We’re the reason he keeps living.”

Shiemi stood, pulling Rin to his feet and dragging him over to the wall of maps. She drew her hand across all the red. “If we leave him alone, the red will consume this heart and we’ll lose him.”

“You want to go after him.”

“I have to.”

Rin pulled Shiemi into a tight embrace. He was so much taller now and stronger. It was easy for her to feel safe in his arms, to want to just stay in them forever, but it wasn’t an option. He smelled of brimstone and though it burned her nose she fell in love with that smell.

“I’ll come.”

Shiemi shook her head and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “No, you and Shura still need to find Sir Pheles. And this is something I need to do.”

Rin looked reluctant, but she knew he’d resign to her like he always did.

“Just be careful, alright?” Rin pulled her into a deeper kiss. She would come back for this, for him, for their love. But to rescue Yukio, even from himself, the burden settled heavily on her heart. She couldn’t let him feel empty inside, because she knew that feeling now and it wasn’t a safe one.

“Do you know where he’ll be?” Rin turned back to the wall and scanned it intently. Shiemi’s eyes settled on the deepest red.

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

“Stop trembling,” she told herself. “Move your legs.”

Nii-chan sat on her shoulder as Shiemi stood at the bottom of the stairway to the pharmaceutical shop. The steps were still intact but splattered with blood and dirt. She pictured her mother sweeping them in the early mornings during the summer. She remembered watching from the top step and then running off giggling whenever her mother looked back up at her, threatening to make her do the job if she didn’t get back to her studies. It was wrong seeing them dirty, they should be clean and welcoming, steps leading up to a home.

“Move your damn legs,” Shiemi hissed. She took the steps two at a time and was left breathless at the top, legs trembling, heart pounding. Nii-chan peeped in her ear, coxing her onwards but when she looked up at the store her blood ran cold. The front of the building was collapsed in. She couldn’t even remember what it was supposed to look like. Wooden beams jutted out in all directions like broken bones. Her home, torn to shreds, too close to ground zero to even have a chance. 

She approached slowly, catching sight of the garden. Something had gone through and systematically pulled out all the plants, knocked over trees, and tore up the grass. Nii-chan nuzzled her neck.

“It’s a shame, isn’t it?” Shiemi said, scratching his head affectionately. “But we’ll build a bigger, better garden when things are alright again, won’t we?”

Shiemi made her way through a hole in the debris, moving with care, not sure what was holding what up. The last time she’d been here, the building had been in better shape, but she’d made Rin go in for her. She still felt like a coward for that, begging him to go check on her mother because she couldn’t stand even the thought of it. Her mother, dead. Shiemi shivered. Once she was through the rubble, Shiemi collapsed to her knees and took several shuddering breaths. Being in here was making it hard to breathe, to think. She could feel her pulse coursing through her, setting her limbs on fire. Getting to her feet, she made her way to the back of the shop.

“Yuki-chan?” she called. Something moved in a distant room and she pulled the gun from the holster at her side. She felt instantly foolish for even bringing the thing with her. She had Nii-chan, but to be a stronger Exorcist like Bon or Izumo, she needed to have more useful skills. Rin called her a Dragoon but Yukio shunned her almost entirely.

Soon there was only room left to check and it was the only one with a lone figure sitting with his back to her at a small round table.

“Yuki-chan.” Shiemi gave a sigh of relief and put the gun away. “I was so worried.”

“You should stop worrying about me so much, Moriyama, you’ll make yourself sick.” Yukio didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. The things I said...I regret them.” Shiemi bowed her head.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What?” Shiemi rushed to Yukio’s side, grabbing him by the shoulder and forcing him to face her. She needed him to understand her, that she loved him, that she needed him. “Yuki-chan, please. Please forgive me.”

Yukio turned easily, his muscles relaxed, his head lolling to the side slightly. He gave her a dazed smile and sighed. “I’m sure you’re quite sincere, but I refuse your apology on the grounds of you being a horrid bitch.”

“I...” Shiemi’s cheeks burned and her nose wrinkled at the smell of his hot breath.

“Maybe you should just listen, here, sit down and I’ll teach you some things.” Yukio grabbed Shiemi by her shoulders and pushed her back onto a pillow. “Allow me to tutor you again with my infinite knowledge, Miss Moriyama.”

“Are you drunk?”

Yukio stood, shaking his head, and patted his chest. “Pharmaceuticals expert.”

“What did you do?” Shiemi looked around the room for some kind of clue as to what Yukio had taken or mixed for himself.

“I killed hundreds of people, maybe thousands now. Indirectly, mind you, not that that’s ever mattered. I always find it funny that nii-san still doesn’t get it, why he should just put that sword to good use and take me out. It’s only a matter of time.” Yukio threw his arms in the air and stared at the ceiling. “Only a matter of time.”

Shiemi slammed a fist on the table. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe that you still think that’s a possibility. It’s been seven years. The first time...you almost died the first time, Yukio. Your body is no good.”

Yukio knelt down in front of Shiemi, nearly straddling her. He pushed his nose into hers and Nii-chan made an irritated noise, mimicking Shiemi’s. 

“You think my body’s no good, huh?” He pressed his lips to hers, grabbing the back of her head and holding her with a vice grip. Shiemi slapped him hard across the face and he reeled backwards, holding his cheek. His eyes remained unfocused, but he sobered up quicker than Shiemi expected. Maybe she should hit him again for good measure, but she lowered her hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“Don’t apologize. It doesn’t mean anything when you’re like this.” Shiemi stood. “We have to get back to everyone else now.”

“I can’t go back.”

“You have to.”

“I thought I could pay for my sins, take my penance, but I keep having these dreams and thinking about it and how it felt and I can’t make it feel bad. Every time I remember it, I remember it feeling right, like it was meant to be.” Yukio looked up at Shiemi, no trace of the man she knew existed in that face. She looked away, ashamed. “I don’t want that, Shiemi. But I’m not strong enough to fight it, not like Father Fujimoto was or like Rin is.”

Shiemi looked around the room, her heart heavy. It seemed like there had been hundreds of years since she’d carried stacks of textbooks into this room, smiling at Yukio, so excited to learn. And he’d been so giving, so caring, so ready to get her prepared for a world she was certain she’d never be able to face. She remembered explaining flowers to him and showing off her favourites and he always gave her that smile she loved. He always had three smiles. One he used to placate people, a second he wore sincerely, and then a third he had just for her. It had been a hundred years since she’d seen that smile and now she was sure she’d never see it again.

“I can’t tell you how to be strong, Yuki-chan, least of all how to be strong like your father or your brother. I’m fairly certain that’s impossible.” Shiemi gave a sad smile. “You’ve always been strong for others and now they don’t need you, so you’re lost. You need to find something that’s worth fighting for, something with a heart that belongs to you and you alone.”

“No such thing exists,” Yukio whispered. Suddenly Shiemi had him in a hug and all the air was lost from him.

“It’s you, Yuki-chan. It’s your heart that you must fight for, it’s you that must give yourself strength.” Shiemi’s voice was strong though she was shocked at the tears that fell from her eyes. She had been so certain there would never be anymore.

“Do you really believe I can do that?”

Shiemi pulled back and gave him a smile despite how much it hurt. “Of course I do. You’ve always been so strong and amazing, an adult since you were fourteen. But now you have to actually grow up, too.”

Yukio gave her the third smile. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you became my teacher for once.”

She punched him in the arm. “Don’t ever do this to me again, you ass.”

“Ow. Yes ma’am.” Yukio stood and helped Shiemi to her feet.

Outside there was a terrible crack like thunder and the whole building shook. Yukio covered Shiemi as debris shook loose from the ceiling.

“Shit, we’re too close to the gate,” Yukio said.

“It’s okay, we’ll take the back way out. If we just stay low—” She turned and nearly walked right into Amaimon. He shoved her aside with one hand, a simple gesture, and Shiemi flew across the room breaking a self in two. She lay in a heap, blood trailing down the side of her face and tinting her hair a sickly brown. Nii-chan disappeared in a green puff.

“Shiemi!” Yukio looked to her then to Amaimon, eyes blazing.

“Hello, weakling brother,” Amaimon said. “You’re in a very bad place all on your own.”


	4. Who We Become

It wasn’t until Shura slammed a book down on the table that Rin Okumura brought his attention back to the room. He was having trouble focusing. Something had been nagging at him, in the pit of his stomach ever since Shiemi had gone off on her own. As much as he wanted to trust in her and her abilities, he still saw her as weak. It was just in her nature.

“Hey, pay attention. This is important, Rin.” Shura’s brow was furrowed as she sat down on the table and grabbed Rin by the front of his shirt. “We don’t have the luxury of worrying about people these days.” She released him and held the book up for him. “Arthur told me this might be able to help us summon Sir Pheles, but I’m wary of trusting him just yet. For all we know, this brings Satan right to our doorstep.”

Rin crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “We’re running out of options. Despite everything, I doubt the Illuminati would want the end of the world.”

Shura snorted and rolled her eyes. “If the Illuminati is planning anything, it’s nothing that will do us any good. Trust me on that. They’ve abandoned us, Rin, we’ve got to do what we can.”

“Do they know about Yukio?” Rin lowered his eyes. It was only fair to ask, Yukio was a part of the reason the Illuminati had sacrificed Japan to the demons. When he glanced back up at Shura she was trembling. “Shura?”

“I...I mean, they would have to. By now anyways. Look, Yukio’s no good to anyone, so he’s safe. If anything we need to worry about you.” Her voice cracked when she said his name and Rin did his best not to look like he noticed. He didn’t like to think about her relationship with his brother.

Rin scoffed. “Me? Please.”

“I’m not kidding, Rin.” Shura stared at him with a stern expression, lips drawn in a tight line.

“Neither am I. Why does everyone always think I’m joking?” Rin sounded genuinely pained by the fact no one took him seriously. “Look, I get it, I need to be careful. I am being careful. But I still don’t think that that means we should dismiss Yukio. My brother works hard and he’s an asset.”

Shura chuckled. “Well I’m sure he’d appreciate you calling him an asset, but he’s let a lot of people down lately, Rin.” She slid off the table and walked across the room. It was small, with only a table for meetings and a scraggly bunch of worn out chairs. 

“All my life I’ve wanted to be smart like he is, reliable and respected.” Rin looked down at the book. It was old and worn and reminded him of some of the reading material Yukio had always had on the corner of his desk during late night cramming. “I finally get some of that and I really can’t handle the responsibility, can I?”

“Nonsense, you’re a born leader, just like Father Fujimoto was. Not entirely conventional, but that’s not what matters in the end, is it?” Shura shrugged, hugging her chest. “Just being there for the people you love...it’s more important that being the one thing that holds their lives together. Father Fujimoto knew that, you seem to have the instincts for it, but people like me and Yukio, we just do the best we can.”

She looked calm and did her best to keep her breathing steady but the rapid movement of her chest gave her away. Rin went to her and hugged her tight before she could resist. She remained stiff until he pulled away awkwardly.

“What the hell was that for?” she muttered.

“I’m not sure, it just felt right.” Rin rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

She rolled her eyes and punched him in the shoulder. “Fine, can do.” In an instant her expression hardened. “You will need to make a decision soon, Rin. And it’s going to hinge on what we can do with limited resources. That book might be essential.”

Rin picked up the book, hesitant to open it. It didn’t feel powerful or evil, it just felt like old leather binding together pages of even older words. He cringed. Latin remained his nemesis to this day. 

“Right. I’ll...I’ll think about it.” He scooted past Shura, avoiding eye contact, and shrank out the door. Rin sprinted down the hall to the stairs and climbed them two at a time to the roof.

 

* * *

 

He stopped at the edge of the roof and held one foot out, ready to take the step, then swung it back and sat down. His legs hung over the side. The air was clearer up here, Rin told himself, so it made things easier. He could think up here. He could clear his head. This time he held the book up over the edge and pulled back one finger at a time until he was clutching it with nothing more than his thumb and forefinger. It was heavy, it could easily fall ten storeys down and break and maybe spontaneously combust and be unusable. He sighed and set the book down next to him, burying his face in his hands.

_She compared me to him..._

Something warm ran down his cheek. Rin swiped at it feverishly but it came again, streaming across both sides of his face, dripping from his nose and chin. He wouldn’t allow himself these tears. What excuse did he have, really? Cowardice?  In his mind, Rin was certain that it was Shiemi that always kept him from turning his back on his humanity. She was really the only thing, beyond that he had so little to offer. Even when he had finally had the chance to face Satan, it had been Yukio who’d taken the hit. Yukio who’d shown his true strength.

Rin blinked the rest of his tears away and looked out over the city. From there he could see how little was left of humanity around True Cross. The Illuminati had done there best to cordoning off the city, but when that fell the entirety of Japan itself had become a war-zone. What hope there was left was fleeting. It was only a matter of time before he had to confront Satan again, who’s powers had surely only grown since they’d last defeated him. 

“Seven years,” Rin whispered. “Too long. I’ve wasted too much time.”

He glanced up to the rumble of an explosion, a pocket of smoke and dust bursting in the distance near the school. It wasn’t uncommon, but the location set him on edge. It was too close to Shiemi’s home, it might have even been one in the same. He clenched something in his hand; the book. Shit. Shura would kill him if he left, but the lump settling in his stomach was too much to handle. He had to make sure Shiemi was alright.

Rin turned to find Shura standing in the doorway looking as upset as he felt. How did she know already? She looked more angry than concerned.

“You need to come with me,” she said, nodding for him to follow as the door swung shut behind her. 

“Wait, Shura!” Rin cursed and dashed after her, running into her the moment he opened the door.

“If this is about Shiemi, come with me. I promise I won’t use the sword, I just need to make sure she’s not hurt...”

“What? Shiemi? No.” Shura refused to face him. “Shima just stumbled through the front door bleeding from a nasty stomach wound. But the weird thing is, it looks like he’d been stitched up.”

“Someone stabbed him and then fixed him?” Rin followed Shura down the metal stairs, the heels of her boots echoing off the walls.

“Beats me, he’s not saying anything. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s not talking because he’s exhausted from blood loss, but sadly I know you little shits better than I’d like to admit sometimes.” Shura paused at the bottom of the stairs.

“Meaning what?”

“You need to talk to him, Rin.” Again Shura kept her back to him.

“Okay, fine.” 

Her arm shot up, blocking his way through the door. She sighed and glanced over her shoulder, keeping her eyes down.

“Not as a friend, but as a...liability.”

Rin frowned. “You don’t trust him?”

“You shouldn’t.” Shura dropped her arm and gestured for Rin to go on ahead. He did so with trepidation. 

 

* * *

 

Shima was rested on a makeshift bed of three chairs propped together with a pillow keeping him upright. He gave Rin a pained smile that faded quickly when it wasn’t returned. Rin shut the door solemnly and swallowed. He had to take Shura’s advice, she’d never been wrong before. He was putting a lot of trust in her, to look for Shiemi for him, to handle Yukio, to be right about Shima. His fingers curled around the spine of the book.

“Where were you?” Rin cleared his throat.

“Out taking in the sights.” Shima patted his stomach and flinched. “I ran into Bon and Izumo.”

Rin pointed at Shima’s hands. “They did that to you?”

“Well, Izumo patched me up, and everyone in Kyoto is fine. My family...Bon’s...”

“I didn’t ask.” He had been so worried about upsetting his friends, about not trusting them, but that had been his weakness. Yukio didn’t have such problems and Rin needed to have his brother’s strength. “Where are they, Renzuo?”

“I, well, I honestly don’t know. I left as soon as I could to avoid getting grilled just like this.” He scowled. “What exactly are you trying to get out of me, Okumura? It’s not like they’re the enemy. They came back for a reason, they can help us.”

Rin scuffed his foot against the dirty floor. That was a good question. All Shura had told him was that he couldn’t trust Shima, not why or how to deal with it. And the prospect of seeing Bon again raised Rin’s hopes. Allies, right? He pictured Shura’s stern expression. They had left when they were needed the most. Not allies, but not enemies either...

“Nothing. I was just...making sure everything was sound. Get some rest, Shima. We’ll find Izumo and Suguro.”

“Rin, I stayed with you guys because it was what I needed to do.” Shima struggled against his wound to sit up and wheezed. “Don’t make me look as dumb as Suguro likes to think I am. Don’t turn out like your brother.”

Rin balled his fists, a heavy feeling burning through his chest. The book fell to the floor. Maybe that’s what was wrong with him, he was becoming too much like his brother. Controlling, paranoid, afraid of himself more than the demons outside.

“I’m just more careful about where I place my trust these days, Renzuo. We don’t know them like we used to. You might think you’re protecting Kamiki or Suguro somehow, but what does that make you to me? I can’t trust you.”

“You sound like your brother.” The words bit, but Shima’s expression was worried. “Rin, you don’t stop trusting your friends.”

“They stopped being my friends a long time ago, when they betrayed that trust.” Rin picked up the book and drew his fingers down the cover. There were no other options. He left Shima without another word. He would do as Yukio had done before him; whatever it took to protect the people he loved.


	5. I Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shura heads out to find Shiemi and put Rin's mind at ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be forewarned, there is some mild sexual content in this chapter.

Shura Kirigakure had made some mistakes as of late and rather than resolving them as her common sense commanded, she decided it would simply me best to pretend they had never been made in the first place. The one mistake that was currently haunting her despite her best efforts to ignore it was Yukio Okumura. He wasn’t hard to figure out, the self-hatred was something Shura understood all too well. Shura found that large quantities of cheap beer came in handy, but Yukio was a light-weight with a weak stomach. She had had to put his mind at ease with different methods that still left a bad taste in her mouth. In the back of her mind she reasoned that the attraction was so much alive because he resembled Shiro.

“I think I’m drunk enough,” Yukio had muttered in her ear the first time she’d suggested sex to him. He burped and pounded his fist against his chest. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She was harrowingly sober. His efforts to undo her shirt were too sloppy so Shura ended up doing it herself along with her bra.

“Oh.” Yukio’s cheeks flushed and he placed both his hands over his crotch. Shura waited for him to undo his pants but instead he just rubbed the heel of his hand against the zipper.

“Ladies don’t much appreciate it when you just come in your pants.” Shura exhausted a lot of effort to keep the temperament of her voice even. 

“You want me to put it in you?” Yukio was seventeen and Shura felt old. When he spoke, he didn’t sound like Shiro, he didn’t exude the same confidence. He was just a little boy again and all the thoughts of what she’d planned to do with him made her stomach turn. A simple fuck, why was that so complicated. 

“No,” she said slowly, “we don’t have to do that. But let me take care of you, okay?”

Yukio’s head lolled backwards as she undid his pants and slipped her hand down his underwear. He jerked backwards slightly when her fingers stroked the end of his cock, but relaxed almost immediately. It wasn’t the ideal. She’d been hoping for--if not romance--at least some intimacy. A quick, drunken hand-job was something you paid a whore for when things weren’t working out with the wife. And that’s what Shura was, the cheap whore because Yukio had lost Shiemi to Rin. At the end of that first night, Yukio had fallen asleep after he’d come. It had left Shura enough quiet alone time to think, but she’d downed another beer and prayed that in the morning her hangover would distract from the ache in her heart.

 

Now, in the wreckage that remained of the old pharmacy, Shura found herself thinking too much. She shouldn’t have left Rin to deal with Shima. He could barely decide whether or not to open a book. The paranoid itch at the back of her neck wasn’t new. Arthur had betrayed her and all of Japan and when she’d gone to Kyoto for help, they’d been too caught up in their own tragedies to do much. It was far easier to simply go it alone, to trust her sword and her own two hands. 

She bit her thumb and drew her weapon, stepping into the darkness of the destroyed building. The heels of her boots kicked up wisps of dust that haunted her steps.

“Yukio,” she hissed. “Moriyama-san.”

The broken boards creaked and shifted over head as Shura made her way to the back of the pharmacy. Behind a thin curtain was another totaled room, but this destruction looked more recent. A sickly bitter smell lay pungent in the air. Sulfur, brimstone, blood.

“Shit.” Shura caught sight of a crumpled body against the far wall. Covered in debris and some books, Shiemi was laying in a pool of dark blood. She let out a soft moan as Shura knelt down beside her and started to clear off the rubble.

“Are you alright?” Shura couldn’t be sure where the bleeding was coming from, which was more than a little worrisome. “Can you sit up?”

“Yuki-chan?” Shiemi’s voice was hoarse and pained. 

“He’s not here, Moriyama-san. Do you know what happened to him?”

Shiemi sat up and clutched her stomach as Shura steadied her. The blood was coming from a nasty gash on her arm and from somewhere under her hair. Nothing too bad, at least she was conscious. Shura listened to Shiemi explain what had happened to Yukio before they’d been attacked. She kept her mouth shut and dressed Shiemi’s wounds as best she could with torn up curtain and whatever salves were still good. Yukio’s behaviour was troubling. It had been months since they’d actually had a civil conversation and weeks since they’d had sex. The only thing that upset Shura more was that Shiemi sounded more sincerely worried for Yukio than Shura could ever manage. 

“We were just about to leave and then suddenly I was flying through the air and then I hit the bookshelf and...” Shiemi frowned as she tried to think through the pain. “I’m sorry, Kirigakure-san, I don’t remember anything else.” She balled the fist of her good arm and looked at Shura with uncanny determination. “We’ll save Yuki-chan, right? We’ll find him and save him.”

“No.”

Shura stood, offering a hand to Shiemi, who stared at her in utter disbelief.

“What?” she murmured.

“We’re not going to find Yukio and save him. That’s not the priority at the moment. The seven year anniversary of the opening of the gate is coming up and we can’t waste time on suicidal idiots.” 

Shiemi slapped Shura’s hand away and stood up on her own, never taking her eyes off the other woman. She looked more than angry, she looked demonic.

“You’ll give up on him just like that? Are you really so heartless, Kirigakure-san?”

“Don’t talk to me about things you know nothing about. I came here to get you and put Rin’s mind at ease. Whatever’s happened to Yukio, he’ll have to take care of himself. Our duties-- Shiemi listen to me--our duties are greater than this. Than Yukio, than even our own lives.” The words burned her tongue, like she wasn’t sure of them herself. It was true, it had to be true. That if she didn’t matter to Yukio, then he shouldn’t matter to her.

“Your duties maybe. My duty has always been to my friends and it always will be.” Shiemi did her best to limp past, but Shura caught her arm.

“Don’t be such a petulant child!”

“You’re the one being a child! Can’t you see he doesn’t love you the same way you love him? That’s why you hate him so much.” It was a long silent moment before Shiemi realized what she’d said and clamped her mouth shut. Shura released her arm and let her hand swing down to her side. Shiemi ambled past her, kicking up a small cloud of dust.

“I’m going to find Yuki-chan,” she said, taking her time to step over the broken beams as she wormed her way through the door. 

Shura didn’t reply. She couldn’t. Her mouth was dry and her chest was constricted. It didn’t hurt that Yukio didn’t love her, it didn’t hurt that she hated him, it hurt that everyone else could see it and she’d been desperately blind. Clinging to imaginary scraps of affection. For what? To feel worthwhile when everything else around her was black and white and duty over heart. 

“What would Shiro think...” Shura bowed her head. Stop being such an idiot, Kirigakure. You know yourself better than this. You know what’s important. With a deep sigh, Shura turned and ran after Shiemi.


	6. What Little Hope There Is

Ryuji Suguro had given up on hope. It only served to hurt him in the end and he couldn’t bare to deal with any more heartache. A small, fleeting part of him had hoped that seeing Renzou again would make everything okay. Like it would be some sort of reset button and the last seven hellish years of his life would be undone. All he had wanted was to see his friend, to hear him crack a dumb joke, to even be called Bon again. It was such a silly little fantasy and when he had seen Renzou in that alley it had sent an entire shock of electricity through his body. That man was not his friend, not the boy he’d grown up with in Kyoto. It was a stranger trying to eek out a living in this new world, a stranger who would never be able to make Ryuji laugh or who would ever call him Bon. Kamiki couldn’t see it, the mask the stranger was wearing was good enough to fool her. But Ryuji knew better. He could see through the false realities now, he’d learned his lesson. 

He thought of their last day in Kyoto, after the final attack, the day Kamiki had convinced him that it would just be best to leave. She had helped him lift his father’s body onto the pyre.

“I heard a rumour a few weeks ago,” she said meekly. “Things are actually fairing better at True Cross than we could have expected. People actually go outside.”

Bon remained quiet. He was focusing all his energy on his hands. Don’t let them shake, don’t let them shake. He kept his eyes focused on the distance, away from his father’s face with the sunken eyes and blue lips. He kept them trained on the devastated shrine over Kamiki’s shoulder, and then on the crumbled ruins of his home. 

“It’s important that we tell them Kyoto’s fallen, Suguro.”

The last thing his father had said to him drowned out Kamiki’s words. It felt like the words had been twisted into his brain with a corkscrew. _Demons can’t kill hope, Ryuji. That’s why we’ll always win._

It was just another mask, to hide the fear even though Ryuji could see it in his father’s eyes. In the span of forty-eight hours they had lost family and friends and home. All they had left was masks and Ryuji had even tried one on for his mother when she’d died in his arms. A mask of bravery, a mask that promised he wouldn’t give up hope. He couldn’t find the strength to wear any more, though, all his efforts went to steadying his hands.

“We can’t stay here anymore, there’s nothing left. We should’ve known on day one when Konekomaru...” Kamiki bit her tongue as Ryuji turned to her with dead, cold eyes.

“Don’t.”

“You need to stop living in some twisted fantasy where we can come back from this. There is nothing left, Suguro. Nothing. Not even any bodies left to burn.”

“Shut your damn mouth.”

“This temple has always been cursed.”

Ryuji’s lip pulled back in teeth-baring snarl as he raised his hand. Kamiki took the hit without flinching, her cheek turning bright red as the slap echoed around the grounds. She kept her face turned away as Ryuji’s breathing gradually slowed and he eventually dropped his arm.

“Did that help at all?” She blinked the tears out of her eyes and raised her chin.

To his horror, Ryuji felt another mask fall off, one he didn’t even know he’d been wearing. 

“Kamiki, I don’t know what I’m doing.” He watched his father now, unable to take his eyes away this time. There was that ridiculous childlike hope again, that this was all a dream and that his father would sit up and tell Ryuji some stupid joke. But the longer he watched him the heavier the lump in his stomach grew. He hadn’t even said goodbye because he’d been so sure that it was impossible for his father to die. His father was supposed to be eternal, someone who was always there for Ryuji even when his friends abandoned him.

“You’re doing the best you can.” Her fingers cautiously reached out for his and she held his hand tight. The sting of her cheek refused to subside.

“If we do go back to True Cross, my father lived.” Ryuji turned to Kamiki. She frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“And Kinzou rescued a bunch of children. He’s taking care of them now.” Ryuji had found Renzou’s brother sliced clean in half two days ago, half his face missing.

“You want to lie to them?”

“And Miwa...” Ryuji gave a tiny, sad smile, “he had to stay to help out. Because he’s so smart and tactical.”

Konekomaru Miwa had died two months after they had arrived in Kyoto. He had made the tactical error of being Ryuji’s friend and giving his life to save his mother. Before then he had made a difference and saved hundreds of lives. Ryuji remembered him like that, with a tired smile on his face, running around making sure everyone had enough to eat and was in good spirits. Miwa’s broken glasses remained in Ryuji’s pocket.

“I still don’t understand.” Kamiki released his hand as Ryuji pulled out a lighter and stepped towards his father’s pyre. He clasped his hands together and murmured one last prayer as Kamiki bowed her head. After he lit the pyre it was a long while before either of them spoke.

“Kyoto remains strong. Everyone here is still alive, because as long as they are alive” --Ryuji watched the dark smoke billow into the sky-- “then so is hope.”

 

* * *

 

“Shima, you dumbass.” Ryuji knelt down next to the puddle of blood at the doorway. Ahead of it was a long trail of crimson splotches that led down the street in a wavy path. He shook his head and stood up, looking back to Izumo who stood back with her arms crossed. Her forehead was creased with worry.

“He’s gonna die out there. His wound isn’t even remotely healed.”

Ryuji gave her a blank stare. “What do you want me to do about it? It was his choice to leave and more importantly it was your choice to leave him unattended.”

“What? Did you want me to tie him up?”

“It wouldn’t have been the worst idea.”

“I still trust my friends.”

“They obviously don’t trust you.” Ryuji regretted the words before they even left his mouth and closed his eyes. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Just go find him.” Izumo’s voice cracked slightly as she turned away from the door and disappeared into the building.

Ryuji looked down at the blood again. It was like a dark twist on familiar childhood memories of Shima tracking mud through the temple and Ryuji hunting him down to lay down some much deserved justice. But whenever he found Shima, the little shit always had clean feet. Too clean, freshly washed, still soapy feet. Ryuji had called him out on it once.

“You cheated!” He had declared with puffed cheeks to match his puffed sense of self-righteousness.

“Cheated at what?” Shima had given that devilish grin, the one that admitted he’d been caught but would never be punished for lack of proof.

“Cheating fucker,” Ryuji mumbled to himself, following the trail of blood.

 

The trail thinned out as Ryuji reached the remains of True Cross. It didn’t bring back any melancholy memories like he’d expected it would. Maybe that was just the part of him that had grown up and put the past away, or maybe he’d just never had much of a past there worth remembering. Regardless, it was to be treated as enemy territory. 

Inside the courtyard was surprisingly intact with green moss and ivy snaking up the walls and remaining trees. Ryuji kept out of sight as best he could, sticking to the side of the yard and creeping through the long shadows of the evening. For a scary moment the trail of blood seemed to stop all together, then Ryuji noticed something wet against his hand. He pulled it away from the wall and wiped the blood off on his pants. The crimson smear continued around through a collapse in the wall and the trail continued up to the old dorms where the Okumura brothers had lived. They couldn’t possibly still be camped out it that building, it was too close to the gate. Then again, they had done far more foolish things in the past. 

The lack of any kind of security system was more stressful to Ryuji than the thought of actually getting caught. Could it be that they were actually this lax? He huffed as he trod up the front steps calmly. Well if Rin was in charge, maybe this was what was bound to happen...

The front door slammed open and Ryuji dove into the bushes just as Shura Kirigakure blew past.

“Oh all the bullshit jobs to get saddled with during the apocalypse,” she grumbled, fists clenched, as she passed Ryuji’s hiding place. She’d left the door swinging open in her angry huff. This was just getting ridiculous but Ryuji wasn’t about to let a perfect opportunity escape him. He crawled out of the bushes and up the steps to the door. Just as he reached for the doorknob he heard footsteps and scrambled backwards, collapsing into a thorny rose bush with a muffled grunt. Rin stepped through the door, a large book tucked under his arm. Ryuji watched him through the leaves, holding his breath as he lay on his back, just barely covered.

Luckily for Ryuji, he looked preoccupied as he wandered off down the path past the bushes. It was mildly concerning that in the pit of his stomach Ryuji wanted to call out to his past friend. It was surprisingly nice to see Rin again, despite everything. Maybe Kamiki was right and seven years had been more than enough time to mend at least a few wounds. That was a nice thought at least, but Ryuji didn’t have time to waste on such frivolous thoughts. 

Once inside the building, Ryuji crept quietly down the halls looking for some kind of sign of Shima. It was just like hide-and-go-seek again, without the giddy thrill. His heart was pounding and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. Was he afraid of confronting Shima? He did feel betrayal and lingering anger of Shima’s choice to stay behind, but maybe that was for the best too. That way he hadn’t had to endure the same painful loss as Kamiki and Ryuji had.

“Bon?”

Ryuji halted suddenly and backtracked to an open door he’d passed while lost in thought. Shima was propped up on a makeshift bed, head cocked quizzically to the side. His frown dissipated into a smile when he saw Ryuji, but that faded too.

“I mean, Suguro. What are you doing here? Did you talk to Rin?” Shima leaned foward as Ryuji stepped into the room. He shut the door behind himself and raised a hand to silence Shima.

“You could have died, you dumb fuck. What were you thinking?” Ryuji was having trouble staying angry as a small, nagging part of him wanted nothing more than to hug Shima. He was all that was left from Kyoto, from that idealized past, from the most important years of Ryuji’s life. There was nothing left to hang onto, but he couldn’t even trust Shima anymore could he?

“Oh so you really do care.” Shima wore that damned cocky grin then cleared his throat. “Is, uh, is Kami--Izumo, upset?”

“She was worried.”

Ryuji crossed his arms.

“Well that makes me feel like shit.” Shima placed a hand over his stomach. “Give her my thanks will you? Unless of course you plan on staying?”

“That depends, is Yukio still allowed to breathe?”

Shima rolled his eyes aggressively and shrugged. “Surprisingly, Rin still doesn’t feel the need to kill his brother. Look, Suguro, I understand the hurt feelings but Yukio made a choice for family. It was either him or his brother and I know if I had to choose, I would sacrifice anything for my family.”

Ryuji’s heart stopped.

“The same goes for you and Konekomaru, I would give my life for you two. You’re my family and we have to look out for each other.” Shima’s eyes cast downwards and he tugged at the thin blanket that covered his legs. “I’ve never forgiven myself for not going with you three, but I knew that as long as you were together and in Kyoto, things would be alright? I know I’m not the most reliable so it was for the best really, I suppose.”

“What are you talking about?” Ryuji snapped. He’d started pacing around the room without even noticing and now he stopped and ran his hands through his shoulder-length hair. His stomach was churning, a vicious bile threatening to burn his throat.

“Remember when I dyed my hair and we thought for sure my parents were going to disown me? Even Kinzuo snorted his noodles up his nose when he saw.” Shima squinted through his foggy memory as he looked at Ryuji; it looked odd with only one eye. “Then two days later you went and got all those damn piercings in your ears and that...that stupid hair.”

He was searching for distractions, wasn’t he? Ryuji’s lips trembled as he bit the inside of his mouth so hard hot blood spread across his tongue.

“Kamiki told me how everyone is doing. About Kinzuo and Miwa and how your dad wanted to keep him around because he’s so damn smart. I mean, I’d love to see the little guy again, but he’s so much more useful back home.” Shima gave Ryuji a sad smile. 

“Renzou...” Ryuji sat down on the middle of the floor, hugging his legs and keeping his eyes fixed on his knees as tears welled. His heart was burning a hole through his chest. “Miwa died not even two months after we got back to Kyoto...he died trying to save my mother. It didn’t even matter in the end. I lost...I lost both of them.”

The voice that answered him was so small Ryuji barely heard it. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Tears cleared thin lines down his dirty cheeks. “We...I left because I was scared and I came back because I was scared.” Ryuji looked up at Shima blearily. “My dad is dead, Renzou. Kyoto is gone, our home is gone, and nothing has ever scared me more.”

Shima looked away, his voice hoarse. “My family?”  
Ryuji shook his head and the two sat in a long silence.

“Bon,” Shima whispered, “are you...are you okay?”

“Didn’t you fucking hear me?” Ryuji’s lip curled back in rage. “Everything is gone. Everyone is dead. I’m a damn coward and I couldn’t tell you...I just couldn’t.”

There was a soft smacking sound as Shima’s feet hit the floor. Ryuji stared at him in confusion as Shima winced, grasping at his abdomen as he dropped to his knees in front of Ryuji.  Shima’s forehead was beaded with sweat, his face twisted in pain, the corners of his eyes brimming with tears.

“But you came back.”

“I lied.” Ryuji hated himself.

Shima reached out a hand and placed it on his friend’s shoulder. He squeezed it lightly and there was a warm flare in Ryuji’s chest.

“Sugu--Bon. You came back. I missed you so much, you asshole.” With as much strength as he could muster, Shima tugged Ryuji’s limp body forward into an awkward, lopsided hug. “You’re all I have left, Bon. Thank god you’re here.”

Ryuji realized that that warm feeling was familiar. His father had shown him that is existed when he’d refused give it up even when on his deathbed.

_Demons can’t kill hope, Ryuji. That’s why we’ll always win._

And for just a little longer, Ryuji Suguro was allowed to hold hope in his heart.


	7. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note that this is a sort of half chapter to relieve a bit of tension before things start to get really bad. It's also because I have a lot of love for the Kyoto boys and it's only downhill from here. Enjoy.

The air around the shrine was quiet and cold and it nipped at Renzou Shima’s ears, cheeks, and nose. He was bundled up in the layers his mother had wrapped him in and his brothers had pointed and laughed at him when he’d waddled outside in them. Two scarves to keep her little darling cozy, his father’s hat because his mother liked the way it fell into his eyes--it was oh so cute--and gloves this time, young man, because the last frostbite scare had been too much for her heart to handle. 

Standing next to his best friend, Ryuji Suguro--or a better name, Bon--Renzou felt childish. Bon didn’t have his father’s too-big hat on, nor did he need hand-me-down gloves, no he was too cool for that. Even at twelve years old he was the kind of man Renzou wanted to be. Even Konekomaru Miwa, shivering on Bon’s other side wasn’t dressed in so many layers. And when Renzou mentioned this to his mother she pursed her lips and muttered that if he still had a mother she would dress him well too, so hush up about it.

Renzou didn’t like to think about that, the fact that Miwa didn’t have parents to look out for him. It never really seemed like a big deal, he was like a brother to Bon and yet another brother to Renzou. It couldn’t possibly be that lonely, not when he had everyone else to take care of him. Bon’s mother had baked cakes for Miwa’s birthday and Juuzou taught him how to tie his shoe laces, but no one cared for him out of pity, he was just another kid to love.

“I’m cold,” Renzou muttered. “And bored. And hungry. And OOF.”

Bon’s elbow dug into his side like a knife and he cringed.

“We’re not going anywhere until we see the ghost,” Bon said, his words catching in the cold air, forming their own ghostly shapes.

“It’s going to be so amazing.” Miwa’s bright red cheeks puffed up as he beamed at Bon who shot a confident grin back. “I heard that she’s an old witch who shrieks and moans all night because she lost her children in a snowstorm and that if you’re bad she’ll rip out your eyes but if you’re good she’ll tell you your future.”

“What a pleasant lady,” Renzou grumbled through his first scarf, then nuzzled his chin over top to be properly heard. “Can’t wait to meet her.”

“Seeing a ghost, it’s like the first step to becoming a true Exorcist.” Bon looked ahead at the shrine, pure determination shining in his eyes. The three of them were crouched behind a bush a few meters away with a perfect view so as not to disturb anything before the witch showed up.

“Here we go...” Renzou rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the thin layer of snow. “Not everyone wants to be an Exorcist.”

“I do,” Miwa chirped.

“Not everyone is as lazy as you, Shima,” Bon added snidely. “At least we have prospects for the future.”

“Hey, I have prospects and they all happen to have nice bodies and cute faces.” Shima leaned back and grinned up at the sky. Miwa giggled and even Bon gave a defeated chuckle.

“I think one of the prospects might be Nishiki Hojo,” Miwa said suddenly and then clamped his hands over his mouth. Bon raised an eyebrow as Renzou turned a whole new shade of red. He sat up, snow clinging to his hat, and glared at Miwa.

“You weren’t supposed to tell anyone!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Miwa somehow managed to become even smaller than he already was. “But it’s just Bon.”

“One of the snake girls? Really? Do you want to have a girlfriend or get venom spit in your eye?” Bon teased, shoving Renzou head playfully for added effect. He smirked as Renzou’s face scrunched up angrily.

“It’s not her fault, girls are just moody like that. Besides, Nishi-chan is so pretty and talented and smart and I’ve made her laugh a bunch of times.” Renzou stared ahead, recalling the way Nishiki’s shoulders shook as she suppressed a giggle and how she always said _Shima_ with an added little hiss.

Miwa and Bon looked at each other then at Renzou and said, “ _Nishi-chan_?”

They doubled over in laughter at the look of extreme distress on Renzou’s face.

“Shut up you guys, it’s not funny.” He kicked himself for having let that slip. He couldn’t even muster the courage to call Nishiki that to her face, it had only ever been a cute nickname to use when thinking about how cute she was. Cheeks burning, sweat pouring from his brow, Renzou yanked the scarves from his neck and tossed the stupid hat into the bush. His unkept black hair sprang straight up, causing Bon to double over in laughter. Miwa had tears in his eyes.

“Whatever, I’m going home to warm up and read manga. You two can sit out in the snow until night, and you can do it without me.” Renzou stood up in a huff.

“Aw, c’mon, Shima we were just teasing.” Bon cleared his throat and shrugged. “If you wanna be a snake charming, that’s just fine.”

Renzou narrowed his eyes but before he could say anything, Miwa raised a silencing hand and tilted his head to the side to listen for something neither Renzou nor Bon could hear.

“What?” Renzou reluctantly crouched back down next to Bon and the two of them watched Miwa with bated breath.

“I thought I heard someone coming up the hill,” he said quietly.

“What, like a woman?” Renzou asked.

“What the hell do you mean ‘like a woman?’ What does a woman sound like?” Bon snapped.

“Elegant.”

Bon stared at Renzou for a moment before bopping him over the head with his fist and turning back to Miwa.

“Does it sound like a witch?” he asked. 

“What does a witch sound like, _Suguro_?” Renzou hissed, holding his aching head.

“Elegant,” Bon retorted.

“Both of you be quiet.” Miwa scooted backwards behind Bon. “Something’s definitely coming.”

The three boys huddled together as the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow grew louder. Renzou tried to imagine the ghost of a witch, or as Miwa had described her, a mourning mother. He didn’t have too many memories Take-nii, but Renzou recalled the heartbroken sobbing his mother tried to hide late at night. It must be hard to lose a son, more difficult even than losing a sibling. And then there was Miwa’s situation, the opposite. Could there be children ghosts mourning for lost parents? 

Renzou settled his eyes on the shrine. A strong wind blew the snow up off the ground into a dizzying swirl of glittering flakes and for the briefest moment it almost seemed to take shape. Perhaps that was an arm, there could be a leg, a head with billowing hair or a cloak...as he squinted, something grabbed a hold of Renzou’s shoulder. If it had been Bon who’d been grabbed, he would have maybe just turned and socked the ghost in the face. Miwa, even, would have been startled and maybe gasped. But it was Renzou, who wanted nothing to do with spirits and exorcisms, who still had nightmares about the Blue Night, and he screamed.

Arms flailing, he rolled froward into the bush, protecting his head with his hands. In the protective shape of a ball, he held back tears and eventually rage as familiar laughter hit his ears. Miwa helped him out of the bush as he and Bon glowered at Kinzou Shima, who was still giggling. Next to him, Juuzou fought to keep a straight face.

“Mom was getting worried when you all skipped out on dinner so she told us to come and find you before you froze to death,” Juuzou said, offering Renzou a hand and helping him to his feet. He tugged the hat from the branches of the bush and plopped it lopsided on his little brother’s head.

“Figures you would come out here after Suguro-sensei told you that dumb witch story. You know he makes that up for all the kids, right? Just to spook them.” Kinzou gave Bon a pointed look as he wiped his runny nose on the back of his hand. “Yeah, Bocchan?”

Bon ignored him and pointed at the shrine. “She was going to show up before you idiots came and scared her away.”

“Look, you wanna be exorcists then it takes a lot more than scaring your mothers half to death by sitting out in the cold all night. C’mon, we’re going home.” Juuzou herded the younger boys back to the path. 

Renzou looked from his disappointed friends back over his shoulder to the shrine. There was nothing ghostly or spooky about it and though he knew for a fact that demons existed, he doubted he’d ever be someone fighting them. Every loss they’d encountered in their lives had been because of demons, but that didn’t drive him to revenge or defeat. It made him sad, in the pit of his heart, knowing that lives could be taken so easily by something like a snowstorm and yet no one in his life passed like that. 

“It’s too bad it was just a dumb story,” Miwa said, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry I got all caught up in the mystery, you guys. I should’ve, uh, researched it more.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Renzou said. “Ghosts are pretty sad after all, aren’t they? I mean they can never move on or be happy again.”

Bon remained quiet as they walked. Juuzou ruffled Renzou’s hat, brushing snow from it down the back of his coat.

“That’s very compassionate of you, Ren-kun.”

“Don’t call me that,” Renzou grumbled, pushing his hat up out of his eyes. The next second a snowball hit him on the side of the face. 

“Ten points!” Kinzou shouted, throwing his arms in the air. 

“Oi!” Renzou wiped the slush from his face and knelt down to make his own snowball when Bon placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked down at Renzou sternly.

“I’ve got this.” Bon scooped up some snow and packed it together roughly and flung it at Kinzou, hitting him square on the nose. He staggered backwards and was pelted with another ball of slush on his forehead. Bon and Renzou stared at Miwa.

“Good shot,” Juuzou commented, tossing his own snowball at his younger brother so that Kinzou finally flopped over into the snow. “Nice arm, Koneko-kun.”

“Thanks, but really it’s just knowing how to use physics proper--” Miwa flew backwards in a burst of white flakes.

“HA!” Kinzou got up, another snowball in hand. He threw it at Bon, who dodged it easily so that Renzou who was standing behind him took the full brunt.

“Ow.” Renzou rubbed his chest. 

“Sorry. Here.” Bon placed a lumpy chunk of snow in his hand. “We’re going to win and create a deep rift within your family.”

“Sure thing, Bocchan.” Renzou grinned.

Until the sky turned from a dusky winter haze to a deep starlit inky black, the boys played in the snow, their layers of clothing sopping wet by the end. Renzou laughed the whole time so that the ghostly howling in the wind never reached his ears. 


	8. Kisses

Izumo Kamiki was covered in the blood of her best friend Noriko Paku, a scream caught in her throat. There wasn’t much left of the body, just the torso shredded at the waist. The blood mixed with the sweat on her brow and dripped into her eyes, blurring everything Izumo looked at. Or maybe that was the doing of her tears. Her hands were trembling as she reached out to Paku, a tiny part of her brain insisting that maybe if she just shook her shoulder she’d wake up like when they’d had sleep-overs or one of them had fallen asleep during a study session. Izumo’s hand clutched Paku’s shoulder tightly and she shook with all her might. The torso wobbled on the ground, blood oozing from torn organs and intestines. It looked like she was wearing the True Cross uniform skirt, maybe a darker shade of purple than it normally was. Paku’s blood had dyed Izumo’s skin a crimson colour and stained her clothes with brown splotches. It was almost as though she’d simply been sprinkled with dirt, nothing more. 

“W-wake up, please,” Izumo urged softly. Her entire body was trembling, the world was spinning. Next to where she’d collapsed onto her knees lay two discarded summoning papers, her blood smeared messily across the symbols that had been drawn on in great haste. The papers were ripped to shreds now, as useless as they had been to her in a fight. 

“Paku, please, we have to go. You have to get up and put on your shoes. You’re missing your shoes, we have to find them before we leave, okay?” Izumo gave a panicked laugh and gestured to her friend’s nonexistent lower-half. If they found her shoes, maybe her legs would be attached. 

Paku’s head lolled from side to side as Izumo’s shaking became more violent. Why wasn’t it working? Just wake up already! Finally, her head snapped to look at Izumo, Paku’s eyes completely vacant devoid of any thoughts, even of her last which had been, _please god end this pain_. And finally Izumo saw that, the reality, that set a fire in her stomach to burn the acid up her throat. She scrambled to her feet and darted away to vomit. It was the contents of an empty stomach, bile and not much else, but she continued to dry heave through her sobbing. 

Izumo eventually slumped down next to the fountain. She and Paku had been having lunch, that was it, she could almost picture it. The sun had still been warm in place of the overcast shade that had spilled from Gehenna and consumed the sky. Paku had made bentos for the both of them. It was the most amazing thing Izumo had ever tasted--aside from Okumura’s cooking. Izumo tried to think about sitting in the grass while it had been green, rather than coated in a thick layer of ash, next to her friend who was now just a corpse. 

In the distance she could hear screaming and she wasn’t sure if it was human or not. There was just so much of it and it was so very loud...she slapped her hands over her ears and curled into a ball, teetered on the edge of the fountain. Paku had been all she’d had, her only real friend. The other exorcists, they weren’t really there for her like Paku had been, they couldn’t possibly care about Izumo, not really.

“Kamiki?”

The voice was too deep but Izumo murmured, “Paku?” as she raised her head, eyes straining through tears to see who was speaking.

Renzou Shima was crouched in front of her, hand outstretched hesitantly, hovering just before her shoulder. He was looking at her with what could only be the most painful concern Izumo had ever seen. She didn’t understand, it barely registered in her head.

“Are you all right?” He was looking at all the dried blood on her now, thinking it was hers and not her friend’s. Funny that. Izumo hadn’t even lost a drop of her own blood, only a bruise over her right eye and a sore wrist. It was as though all that had happened to her was a bit of a trip over a crack in the sidewalk. 

Her bottom lip trembled as she tried to speak. “What...what happened? Did you see the demon? Is there still a demon? I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Izumo was staring over Shima’s shoulder at Paku now. Still unmoving, still a corpse. It didn’t make sense. 

“Izumo.” She jumped as Shima’s hand touched her shoulder gently. “The gate to Gehenna was opened. Yukio and Rin...they, uh, almost died trying to stop it and they managed to send Satan back, but we can’t close it. We’re waiting for the Illuminati or anyone, but I had to come and find you and make sure...” He swallowed and glanced quickly behind him at Paku and then back. His grip tightened on her shoulder.

“She made us bentos,” Izumo said softly, her throat hoarse. She collapsed into Shima’s arms, nearly knocking him onto his back. All the strength had left her body, she couldn’t even cry, could barely breathe. But in Shima’s arms she felt a certainty that crept into her heart, a certainty that things, no matter how bad things got, his arms would shield her. 

 

It was the shockwave that snapped Izumo back to the present, rocking her on her stool and smashing the window shades open. The boom echoed in her ears as she stood up in a daze, holding her summoning papers in her hands. It had been so much quieter in Kyoto, she was still getting used to the screaming and roaring and explosions that happened almost every minute here. She moved to the window to batten down the hatches, but the sight of the city made her pause. It looked like an alien planet, seven years in the making, tall buildings beaten down to the size of shacks, trees ripped and uprooted, blood staining the cracked pavement. Maybe this was a tame version of what lay beyond the gate of Gehenna, a kind of vacation Hell for demons looking to get away from it all. Izumo pulled the window shut and fixed the latch with a piece of thread. It was the same type of thread she’d used to stitch Shima up. She blushed thinking about it; how amateurish of her, and after all that practice with real medical tools. A part of her had been looking forward to showing off.

She retook her seat by the door, keeping an eye out for Ryuji and hopefully Shima, intact at least. It was foolish to worry about him so much, considering he’d survived for so long at ground zero. Izumo touched her lips, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’d imagined what it had been like to kiss a boy, sometimes, when she was trying to drown out all other noises and drift into sleep. Somehow, as only he could manage, Shima had surpassed her expectations. Somehow, it seemed he’d been given two chances at a first kiss. The first time, the real one, had been a surprise when he’d asked her to come to visit in Kyoto for the summer, only for the sixth time. Izumo had finally said yes and he’d simply leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. It hadn’t lasted more than a few seconds, but the feeling was etched into Izumo’s mind for eternity. Startlingly sweet and immensely soft.

“I guess he likes to keep up the tradition of romance,” she sighed, thinking of the desperate kiss they’d shared only a day ago. That was the kiss that still lingered, like the original had, but in a different way. A scary way. Hidden under all the passion, it had seemed like a farewell kiss, something he would have given her with a whispered “ _Sayonara_ ” in her ear. Her words to him before she’d left to Kyoto with Ryuji and Miwa.

_Sayonara, Ren-chan_ , because she’d been so certain she’d never see him again. Izumo caught sight of the blood trailing out of the room. Shima’s blood. She clenched her fists, her summoning paper crumpling in her palms. She’d ran away after that first kiss and she’d said goodbye when Shima had needed her there. There was no way she was letting that last, sad farewell kiss be the end of things. Following almost exactly in Ryuji’s footsteps, Izumo trailed the blood.

* * *

Renzou Shima held his stomach as he peered out the window into the courtyard. It was empty, no sign of either Rin or Shura. He turned back to Ryuji, who was sitting in the corner, shuffling through a bag of medical supplies.

“So you saw them leave?” Renzou winced as he walked over and pulled up a chair.

“Yeah and I still have thorns stuck up my ass,” Ryuji grumbled.

“Okay, well I’m not going to even ask what that means.”

“It means that coming back here was more of a pain in the ass than even I could have imagined.” Holding up an un-labelled pill bottle, Ryuji shook it and tossed it back in the bag. “Who else is missing?”

“Uh, Shiemi, but Shura went to find her so I’m sure she’s fine by now, right?” Renzou gave a tiny, half-hearted chuckle. “And then of course Yukio is off being...Yukio. I dunno, I’ve honestly tried to stay away from the whole mess as much as possible.”

“Gambling.”

“Finding hobbies, sure.” Renzou shrugged.

“Would you have come with us?” Ryuji set the bag down. He looked at Renzou in his good eye. “Given a chance to do things over again...would you have come with us to Kyoto?”

Renzou gave another light chuckle and shook his head slowly. “Naw, I wouldn’t have been much use to you guys anyways. I mean, as much as I would have liked to say goodbye to, uh, to everyone I think it worked better this way.” He tapped the side of his head. “Saved the best memories up here, I can think of home like that. The three of us trying to catch ghosts just so you could get a leg up on Exorcist training.”

“You and Miwa stayed out in the cold with me all day that one winter, right? Looking for a banshee my father had made up.” Ryuji grinned.

An explosion shuddered the building and he braced Renzou before he toppled out of his chair. 

“That was too close,” Renzou muttered. He clambered back to the window, Ryuji close behind him. Before they reached it, a scream found them and Renzou stopped cold.

“Izumo.” He grabbed the windowsill and leaned out, squinting through the grime and smoke to find her. There was another whoosh of hot air as the corner of the courtyard exploded, rubble flying through the air and smashing against the building near the window. 

Izumo burst out of a cloud of black smoke, blood streaming down her arm as she stumbled across the courtyard, headed for the building. A figure dropped down in front of her, cutting off her exit and with a flick of his wrist, sent her flying backwards into a tree. 

“We have to get down there.” Renzou’s voice cracked with panic as he whipped around to Ryuji. 

“I’ll go. You’re injured, you stay here.” He started for the door but Renzou followed after him. 

“No I’m not, I’m going down there and we’re going to save her.” 

Ryuji stopped, pulled a gun from the holster around his hip, and pressed it to Renzou’s head as he limped forward. The muggle rested against the middle of his forehead.

“I’m not losing anymore friends.” Ryuji’s eyes were clouded with fear.

“Then you won’t shoot me, will you?”

He lowered the gun to Renzou’s thigh, finger hovering over the trigger.

“We don’t have time for this bullshit, Bon. You don’t want anymore friends to die? Then stop being so afraid of losing them. Stop being afraid of the worst. You’re the strongest person I know, but right now it’s like I’ve lost my friend, like I’ve lost Koneko, like we might lose Izumo. You can’t afford to be afraid.” Renzou stared him down until another explosion pushed him forward. He placed a hand on the gun and held it up with Ryuji’s hand. “We’re fucking exorcists, and we’re gonna kill a fucking demon and save a girl.”

* * *

Somehow, despite the pain and the bleeding, Izumo found the clarity of thought to mentally kick herself for not being careful. How long had he been tracking her? He’d probably been following her since she’d left the building. 

Coughing up thick, bloody saliva, Izumo pulled herself upright. Bark had torn up the skin on the back of her neck and dug into the soft flesh of her upper arms. She had just enough time to get back to her feet before Amaimon appeared in front of her again.

“The book?” He held a hand out to her expectantly. “Nii-san was disappointed when I didn’t come back with it last time. We can’t have that again.”

“I don’t have any book, idiot!” Izumo screamed in frustration and pain. She dug a pair of fresh summoning papers from her pocket, blood streaming down her arm onto the pages.

“ _I humbly call the Gods of Harvest. Follow my wishes, leave none unfulfilled!_ ”

Uke and Mike burst forward, lunging for Amaimon as Izumo darted in the other direction, starting for the dormitory again. She had to make it. She was going to make it. It couldn’t be a farewell kiss. Just one more.

Her heart skipped as Shima and Bon appeared in the doorway, rushing towards her. In the same instance a guttural yelp echoed behind her. Uke disappeared in a violent burst of white smoke. She reached the boys just as Amaimon snapped Mike’s neck.

“Pests,” he tutted, starting towards the three of them. He took two steps and then winced as two bullets dug into his chest. Bon fired again as he spoke over his shoulder to Shima and Izumo.

“You two get inside, I’ll deal with this.”

“This isn’t what I meant about not being afraid,” Shima said irritably, holding Izumo tightly to his chest.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Bon shot again as Amaimon drew nearer, becoming angrier by the second, “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Bon!”

He turned back to the demon just as Amaimon threw a pebble. It was tiny, smooth, and tore right through Bon’s shoulder, knocking him backwards onto the ground. 

“I don’t appreciate being shot,” the demon said with a bored tone. 

Izumo couldn’t do anything, Uke and Mike were gone and she wasn’t strong enough to summon anything else without it turning on her. Shima gave her a meek smile. 

“Check on Bocchan, okay?”

She nodded numbly and hurried over to Bon. Shima took a deep breath and bit his thumb. He dragged it over his left arm as he spoke, _“Let me shed the blood of those you might shed that of the innocents.”_ The demon sword emerged from his arm and he held it with both hands, pointed at Amaimon. 

“One of your new hobbies?” Bon asked as Izumo helped him sit upright.

“If you hit on Shura long enough, eventually she teaches you a thing or two.” Shima realized how that sounded and blushed at Izumo. “What I mean is...she, uh, showed me how to...” He waggled the sword at her. “She showed me how to do the thing.”

“So you’re the one who possesses the demon blade Kage Ketsueki now. I would have never guessed.” Amaimon observed the sword.

Shima didn’t say a word, he lunged forward slicing at Amaimon’s side. The blade barely missed, clipping off a patch of his jacket. Amaimon leapt backwards and raised his hands, a large chunk of earth lifted into the air and flew towards Shima. Izumo flinched, bracing for impact, but a metallic clang hit her ears. She blinked and looked up as the sword sliced through the earth and stone, splitting it into two halves. Shima grinned and attacked again. Each movement was fluid and eerily calm. It was hypnotizing.

“Are you okay?” Bon distracted Izumo from the display and she nodded.

“I’ll be fine. You?”

“My shoulder’s shot, but you won’t hear me complaining.” Bon got to his feet and helped Izumo up. His eyes flicked over at the sounds of the sword clanging against stone, then back to her. “Why would such a high level demon be attacking us?”

“He...he mentioned something about a book.” Izumo kept her eyes on Shima, a tiny gasp escaping her lips as he just barely dodged a strike. He was growing tired. “I don’t know what he wants. I don’t understand why this is happening.”

“Ah, the naivety of a child.”

Bon and Izumo both glanced up behind them at Mephisto Pheles sitting in the air behind them, a warm grin on his face. He dropped to the ground daintily and patted them both on the head.

“It’s been too long, my lovely students. How was Kyoto? Abysmal, I assume. Yes, yes, Satan’s been quite busy bossing everyone around. It’s a shame really, how intent he is on destroying the entirety of this country I’ve come to love so dearly.” He didn’t even look at them. Izumo shoved his hand away. “What have you been doing?”

“Keeping an eye on my darling little brother, of course. He’s about to do something incredibly foolish, I’m afraid.” Mephisto’s focus remained on the fight. Izumo tore her eyes away from him to look at Shima. Her mouth hung open. Shima was on his last legs, staggering backwards and only blocking. She moved forward towards him, but Mephisto caught her arm.

“It’s it amazing how cruel the world can be?” he said softly.

Izumo tugged, trying to pry her arm loose from his vice grip. It was impossible. Shima grunted as Amaimon battered him down to the ground, fists bouncing off the demon blade.

“Every little mistake can cost a life these days.” Mephisto gave Bon a side-glance as the boy rushed forward only to crash into an invisible barrier. He slammed his fist against it as Amaimon broke through Shima’s defense and hit his shoulder. It snapped and Shima cried out as his shoulder popped out of its socket. 

With one hand, he raised the sword to guard against Amaimon, but the demon knocked it aside easily and grabbed the back of Shima’s head with one hand, lifting him off the ground. Shima grasped at Amaimon’s hand as best he could, struggling with what little strength he had left to get free.

Mephisto finally released Izumo and she crashed against the same barrier as Bon, slapping her palms on the hard air, tears streaming down her cheeks. She needed one more. She could barely remember the feeling on her lips now. It couldn’t be a farewell kiss. 

Shima dropped his hand and reached for his sword as Amaimon pulled his arm back to strike. Two things happened in the same instance. The demon blade Kage Ketsueki disappeared in a cloud of smoke and reappeared lodged in Amaimon’s chest just as the demon drove his hand through Shima’s stomach clean through to the other side. Blood splattered over Izumo’s feet and she staggered backwards. 

“NO!” Bon screamed, hammering his fist against the barrier. 

“The demon blade Kage Ketsueki is quite special. It holds Gara Gara within it, a marvelous failsafe.” Mephisto appeared over by Amaimon, who dropped Shima and stared down at the sword in confusion. “Kage Ketsueki is no fan of demons, my poor brother.” Mephisto pulled the sword free, jerking Amaimon’s body forward slightly before it disintegrated into dust.

Izumo staggered forward, her arms stuck to her sides. Shima looked like himself save for the gaping hole in his stomach. Tears rolled down her cheeks as Izumo frantically thought about how she hardly had enough thread to sew him back together. 

“Renzou!” Bon overtook her in two strides and crumpled to his knees next to Shima. He didn’t cry, he hadn’t cried when Izumo and Tatsuma had helped him bury Konekomaru. Now he wore that same expression, almost as dead as his friend. Izumo couldn’t stomach it, the stench of blood, how thick and quiet the air had suddenly become, that lingering feeling on her lips. 

Bon closed Shima’s eye and murmured a prayer for him. Mephisto approached Izumo with the demon blade slung over his shoulder.

“A horrible thing, in fact the most horrible thing, is the struggle to find balance, don’t you think? Between good and evil and life and death. Who deserves what and why? Well here’s the simple truth.” He handed the sword to Izumo and she looked at it blankly before hesitantly gripping the handle. “Justice comes with reason, revenge comes with passion. In death there is reason and in life there is passion. Death is the what and life is the why. So, then, if you know the  what, the end of all things, then what’s the point, hm? Why even bother fighting?” 

Izumo thought back to their first meeting after seven years, about her apology.

_“Don’t be. You did what you thought was right.”_ He hadn’t even batted an eye before forgiving her. _Don’t be sorry._ Easier said than done because in her heart Izumo felt nothing but regret and sorrow. The sword was so heavy she could barely hold it up. It was like she was trying to carry Shima’s memory in hands.

“It’s funny, don’t you think? Humans and demons both ask why and neither are ever satisfied with the answer they receive. Why did he have to die? Why am I still alive? Why does it even matter?” Mephisto adjusted his hat and glanced up at the sky. “Looks like rain.”

The first few light pellets of rain began to fall as Bon continued to chant and Izumo stared down at Shima’s body. It was like Sir Pheles said, every time her mind asked why she couldn’t muster an answer. It was like with Paku, nothing made sense, her mind was blank, filled with the echo of her own voice.

_Sayonara, Ren-chan._


	9. Father's Sins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mild gore

The last thing he remembered was falling. Yukio Okumura sat up, head spinning, stomach crawling up his throat, and blinked in the darkness. Tenderly feeling the moist spot on the back of his head, Yukio squinted through the haze. It was impossible to see anything. Wherever he was was moist and warm and soft underneath him. With his free hand, he felt around the floor. It something like a hard sponge, liquid oozing between his fingers as he pressed down. Yukio scrambled to his feet and instantly regretted moving so quickly. Bile filled his throat and erupted from his mouth, burning his tongue. All those plants and medicine he’d mixed together dribbled out of the corners of his mouth, the smell of fresh vomit mixing with whatever the putrid aroma of the strange room was. 

Yukio wiped his chin and took a deep breath. He did remember falling and a pop of bright light before he blacked out. But before that? He flinched as a sharp pain exploded from the back of his head. Pulling his hand away he rubbed his fingers together...they were slick with blood. Blood. The memory of Shiemi lying in a heap, blood pooling around her, came rushing back to him so fast that he staggered backwards. And then Amaimon had had him and taken him from her. The room began to brighten. He had to get back to her, had to save her from that demon. A twinge of pain raced from the base of his skull down his spine. His vision blurred as the room grew lighter still. Had someone turned on the lights? Who?

He stepped forward and tripped over something, falling onto his hands. The ground under his shuddered, a soft spongy surface that splashed something wet all over his arms. Yukio blinked against the brightness, the world slowly coming into focus. There was a pair of eyes in front of him, the were green, and two of his favourite eyes too look into. At least it seemed like them, but this pair was faded and coated in a milky white. Yukio reeled backwards onto his knees and had his stomach not already been empty he would have thrown up. Shiemi’s body lay in front of him, dressed in her pink kimono--though it was torn to shreds, exposing flesh that was just as shredded--her head lolling to the side, just hanging on to her neck by a thin line of flesh. From his angle, Yukio could see into the clean slash of her throat. It looked almost like a rose, with a white centre, dark red leaves pooled around her head.

Her face was pale as snow, surprisingly free of any marks or scratches or grime.

Yukio somehow found enough strength in his legs to pull away and stand. His heel smacked into something behind him. He looked down. Ryuji Suguro was lying face down in a thick mixture of mud and blood. Next to him, Izumo Kamiki lay across Renzou Shima, crimson streaking from her mouth down her chest. They all had deep slashes through their bodies, Ryuji had several through the left side of his chest and was missing four fingers on his right hand. It looked like somehow had tried to hack Renzou’s arm off just above the elbow, but had failed to use enough strength.

“You’re not dead.”

Yukio glanced up and felt his heart stop. Rin stood before him holding Kurikara, shoulders shaking as he panted, trying to catch his breath. Blood trickled down from his hands, trailing down the hilt to the blade and dripped onto the ground. His voice was manic but his face was deadly calm.

“Nii-san...” Yukio took a step forward, remembered Shiemi, and looked down as he stalled, foot in the air.

“Why aren’t you dead? Everyone else is dead. What makes you so fucking special?” Rin slashed the sword through the air. Blood splashed across Yukio’s face and he set his foot down.

“I’m sorry. Amaimon...he caught me off guard and I blacked out. Did he do this?” Yukio attempted to swallow the fear growing in his throat.

Rin gave a low chortle, looked up at his brother, then doubled over in laughter. “Amaimon? No.” He straightened, still giggling, and tapped Kurikara against his chest. “Me. I did this.”

“You?”

_How much blood have you shed?_ Yukio grabbed his head as the voice pounded through his skull. He staggered backwards and bumped into someone who grabbed his shoulder. Shura stood behind him, her body covered in deep slashes and bruises. She didn’t look at Yukio, she kept her focus on Rin as she spoke.

“ _Where is your heart, Exorcist?_ ” Her voice was steady and sounded inhuman, deep and echoing. When she looked at Yukio her eyes had the same glossy haze as Shiemi’s. Red oozed from under her short jacket, seeping down her torso from the hole in left of her chest. “ _Is this you, Exorcist? You’ve given up._ ”

Yukio shoved her hand off and flinched against the intense pounding in his head.

“I...I haven’t given up.”

“You haven’t? Look at all this.” Rin motioned to the bodies with a swing of his sword and laughed again. “If you tried so hard, why are they all dead but you’re still alive? If you tried so hard, why did you let me live? You knew it was only a matter of time, didn’t you? _This is what you’ve done, Exorcist._ ”

It felt like Yukio’s head was going to explode. He dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Rin grabbed Yukio’s hair and lifted his head. He was crouched in front of his brother, Kurikara sheathed over his back, his eyes flaming bright blue.

“Apologies don’t mean shit, do they?” Rin yanked Yukio’s head backwards and then lifted him by his hair as he stood.

“Nii-san...please, I’m sorry.”

“What did I just say?” Rin pulled Kurikara from his back and placed the sword in Yukio’s hands. “ _What are you to do, Exorcist?_ ” Rin tapped Yukio’s chest with his hand and took a step back. “ _Where is your heart, Exorcist?_ ”

Yukio looked down at the sword. Not the easiest way out, he would have preferred a gun, something he trusted to work, to end things quickly. The sword, though it was elegant, felt heavy and clumsy in his hands. What was he supposed to do? Just fall on it? Or maybe make it honourable, a samurai sepukku that he didn’t deserve. He felt so small, so naive, like a child playing with a kitchen knife and expecting things to end well. 

That was his problem, wasn’t it? For the little effort he put in, he expected some kind of great results, something extraordinary, something that could save the world. All he had to offer was himself and that was the least exceptional thing he could think of. 

Even after seven years he could still remember the feeling of losing control of his body. If only just for a few seconds, it had felt like an eternity of pain and suffering. His body had just been strong enough, it had just made it, and for that he was forever resentful. It would have been so much better for Satan to just kill him while he’d been contained in Yukio’s body. The weaker of two sons, the reason so many people had died, because Yukio couldn’t stand to lose his brother. The world needed Rin more than it needed him.

“Stupid boy.”

Yukio blinked. Kurikara vanished from his hands and he looked up. The room was gone, along with the bodies and Rin and Shura. Moist, bloody ground had been replaced by scuffed hardwood and two rows of pews ran down both sides of the room. For once, the incessant pounding on Yukio’s brain stopped and he looked up at Shiro Fujimoto.

“I probably don’t deserve any awards for my efforts, but I was fairly certain I was an okay father. At least raised you a bit better than this.” Shiro reached out a hand to Yukio, who flinched, but when his father’s palm rested on his head there wasn’t any pain. It was warm and gentle. “See, I think your biggest problem is that you’re too smart for your own good. That’s what the teachers always praised you for though.” Shiro raised his voice several octaves. “‘Oh Yukio, smartest kid in the whole class’.” He waved it off and rolled his eyes. “Damn teachers, what do they know? Uh, no offence. But the thing about being too smart is that you tend to overthink things and overthinking things hurts like a bitch.”

Shiro crossed his arms over his chest and inspected his son for a minute before sitting down on a pew and splaying out comfortably. Yukio sat stiffly across the aisle from him.

“I’ve caused so much pain and unleashed so much evil into the world...all because I was weak. I was selfish. You did your best to raise me better than this but I failed you...” Tears brimmed in the corners of Yukio’s eyes and he balled his fists in his lap. “I-I’m sorry, Father.”

The laugh that echoed from Shiro filled the whole church with a warmth. 

“There you go, overthinking again. Man, who thought it was a good idea to give you enough brains for you and Rin?” He grinned for at Yukio, then turned away and sobered. “People make mistakes, Yukio. People make mistakes because they are afraid or selfish or just because they don’t know what else to do. I believe that humans were born of a mistake and so to live they have to keep retreading the same path over and over.” Shiro leaned back to look up at the ceiling.

“Are you just going to tell me to learn from my mistakes?”

“What else can you do with them?”

Yukio finally glanced up at his father. “I thought you would hate me for what I did.”

“How could I? The sins of the father so often get transferred to the son, and for that I’m sorry.” Shiro stood, stretching a kink out of his back. “Like I said, I’ll never win a perfect father award, but I tried my damnedest and I have to say, the result even caught me by surprise. You’re a remarkable man, Yukio. I think your biggest mistake, and mine, was trying to make you something you’re not.”

Yukio gave the tiniest smirk. “But we’re supposed to learn from our mistakes, aren’t we?”

“Like I said, too smart for your own good.”

The warmth of the room faded with Shiro. Underneath Yukio’s feet, the floor became warped and gnarled and around him the pews rotted. Rain sprinkled down on him from a gaping hole in the ceiling that displayed the dimming light of early evening.

“My you are a pain to track down.” Mephisto Pheles strode up to Yukio, careful to step over debris that might dirty his shoes. “I was almost worried Amaimon had done something with you. That would have certainly thrown a wrench in my plans.”

“Sir Pheles! We’ve been looking for you, trying to summon you, but it’s been impossible--”

Mephisto drew a line through the air and Yukio’s mouth snapped shut. “You were babbling enough to your hallucinations and it’s best not to dwell on the past anyways. I’m here now and that’s what’s important, no?”

Yukio nodded slowly and his mouth smacked open. “So you defeated Amaimon?”

“Not in the least. Your lovely little Exwires did that for me.” The demon cleared off a patch on a pew and sat down. “Not without a casualty, I’m afraid.”

“What?” Yukio’s mind flashed to Shiemi, but before he could ask about her, Mephisto continued.

“Renzou Shima? I think he was a friend of yours, a student at least. It was quite remarkable to watch him fight and his death was hardly in vain.” Mephisto gave Yukio a devilish grin. “He killed the Earth King all on his own. You children all grew up to be quite interesting.”

“Shima’s...dead.” Yukio swallowed slowly. “What about Shiemi?”

“No clue. It pays to keep your head down, but you tend to be a little out of the loop. I only know as much as I need to put the proper players in place.”

Yukio wasn’t listening. “I have to find her then. She was injured. She could be losing blood.”

“ _She_ is hardly of any concern. Not when your brother is about to become a vessel for Satan.”

It felt like Yukio’d been punched in the gut. “What?”

“He has a very powerful book and is going to do a very foolish thing.” Mephisto’s face became spookily stoic.

“So stop him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I value my own life too greatly.”

“Why would he do anything like that?” The image of Rin, dripping with blood and standing over the corpses of his friends flashed in front of Yukio vividly.

“Because he’s trying to summon me successfully and when he does that he’ll only be dragging Satan right out of Gehenna and into his body, sealing a lock without a key. Unlike your attempt, it will be successful.” Mephisto’s voice was a low growl. “And before you ask, no I’m not going to show myself to him, it’s not that simple. You need me alive and exposing myself to Rin would only serve me up on a lovely platter for all my brothers and sisters who’s orders are to kill me in the most brutal method imaginable. And besides, you have something even more useful to your brother.”

“I don’t...”

“If Rin is the lock that is going to seal Satan onto this world, then you, my dear boy, shall be the hammer that smashes the lock.” Mephisto stood slowly and pulled something from behind his back. He took Yukio’s hand in his and placed a gun in it. The first gun, the one that Yukio knew would never miss, the one Shiro had given him the day he’d finally become a Dragoon.

“This is your task and I know your father would never have it any other way.” Mephisto grinned as Yukio closed his hand around the gun. “My, my, I must say the quiet resolve suits you. So much like Shiro, never giving up the cause. You’re so much like him with the passionate dedication.”

Yukio holstered the gun, keeping his fingers rested on the smooth handle and shook his head. The building was suddenly making him dizzy, closing in on him. It was time to leave. He turned away from Mephisto, eyes set on the door, but paused.

“With all due respect, Sir Pheles,” he said without turning back, “I’m nothing like my father.”

Yukio walked out into the thick, hot air and looked up at the blood red sky. His stomach churned and his heart burned, the gun heavy at his side, but he was finally ready to put an end to hell on earth he’d unleashed. And this time he would not surrender to the weakness of selfish love.


	10. Sudden Impact (Part One)

It started to rain. They had found a blanket inside and draped it over the body. Ryuji watched the drops of water darken the fabric in wide blots. His chest was cold and there was a buzzing in his head. Despite all the death, it remained surreal every time, this being the most unbearably unbelievable. That was it. The end. He really had nothing left anymore. 

The water began to form the blanket to Shima’s face and Ryuji looked away. Kamiki was curled up under a tree clutching Kage Ketsueki to her chest, tears rolling down her face. Ryuji couldn’t bring himself to cry, no matter how much it hurt. It was a stabbing pain in his heart that refused to fade, it just got worse as time wore on and the feeling of dread sunk in. He was the last of his family, he was truly alone in the world and that was the most crushing feeling that had ever taken ahold of his heart. His throat was raw from prayer.

“We can’t stay here.” 

Ryuji looked over at Kamiki, her voice startling him. He watched her wipe her tears and stand, using the sword to steady herself. Mephisto had given it to her, but Ryuji still couldn’t wrap his head around why. Shouldn’t he get to at least be the one to carry his dead friend’s sword? Wasn’t that only fair? After all, what was Izumo Kamiki to Shima? She wasn’t family, she didn’t know him like Ryuji did.

“Suguro, did you hear me? We have to leave. We have to--”

“And go where?” Ryuji screamed at her, throwing his arms to the sky. The rain grew heavier. “Back to that shitty apartment building? Or even better, back to Kyoto? And then what, Kamiki? There’s nothing left, nowhere to go. Might as well just stay put.”

Kamiki held the sword protectively to her chest as Ryuji started towards her. His heart hammered in his chest. It wasn’t for her, she shouldn’t even have it.

“I just...I just can’t stay here anymore. Not with him, not like that.” She gestured to Shima and shook her head slowly. “Please.”

“Fine. Leave. Go away.” Ryuji was only a few inches away from her now and Kamiki stepped backwards, bumping the tree. “Leave the sword.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Kamiki tried to step aside but Ryuji placed both hands next to either side of her head on the tree.

“It’s the least you could do. You’re the reason he’s dead.” His voice was hollow, booming with the distant thunder. “You have no right to it. He was my family.”

“You’re going to be so petty? After everything? You’re not the only one who’s lost people you love. Don’t do this to me, Bon. We don’t have anything left but each other.”

Ryuji dropped his arms and stepped back from under the tree into the rain. “What did you call me?”

“Suguro--”

“No.”

“Bon,” she spat the name at him. “Precious little Bocchan. You lost a friend, a brother even. I lost the man I loved without even being able to tell him what he meant to me. So no, you arrogant bastard, you don’t get the sword. It’s not yours because your time with Renzou was greater than mine. You don’t get to talk to me like I meant nothing to him just because you’re hurting. I’m hurting too.” Kamiki stepped up to Ryuji, rain streaked down her contorted, pale face. “Don’t you dare make this harder for me than it already is.”

“I just...” Ryuji tilted his head towards the sky and gave a pained chuckle. “I have nothing left.”

Kamiki sighed. “You idiot. We’re supposed to be the ones carrying hope aren’t we?”

“That was back when I thought hope still had a chance.” Ryuji pushed his hair out of his face and looked at her.

“It does. We still have Rin on our side don’t we? And even Mephisto.”

“Great. Two demons, I’m sure we’ll win.” 

Kamiki drew Kage Ketsueki from it’s sheath, staring at Ryuji with wide eyes. He held his hands up in surrender and waved them at her. “It was just a joke, Kamiki.”

She shook her head and used the blade to point past his shoulder. Ryuji turned and his stomach dropped as his whole world simultaneously tilted and spun, lightning flashing in his peripheral. The soaking white blanket lay crumpled on the ground at Shima’s feet. The gaping hole in his chest had a burst of congealed blood all around it and there was a dried line of red that ran from his mouth down his chin. His eyes were looking in Kamiki and Ryuji’s direction, but remained unfocused.

An airy hiss escaped his lips, “Where’s Okumura?”

* * *

 

Rin stood in front of the remains of a cooking store, peering in through the shattered glass of the window. The last time he’d used even just a frying pan had been a special occasion, Shiemi’s birthday, and it had only been to cook some spam. He’d lost the damn thing months ago and though it seemed foolish even to him, the idea of maybe finding a new--relatively new--one was exciting. 

“Maybe after everything settles down everyone could go for some spam.” He crept through the window, tiptoeing over the shards of browned glass. The book was heavy under his arm so he placed it on the counter as he ventured back into the store. The shelves were bare, but on the far wall hanging in the dim light on a single hook was the most beautiful thing Rin had seen in a long while.

Rin plucked the frying pan free and turned it over in his hands. It was heavy, caste iron and dented to hell.

“Perfect.” He grinned.

Someone crunched on the glass behind him and Rin whirled, swinging the frying pan with all his might. Shura dodged out of the way and caught the pan with one hand, pulling it from his grasp.

“Your skills in the kitchen never cease to astound me, Rin,” she said, slinging the frying pan over her shoulder with a grin.

“Shura!” Rin beamed at her feeling a giant weight lift from his shoulders, then a lump dropped in his stomach. “Uh, sorry I left the dorm, but I thought that maybe I could do something a little more proactive.”

“Oh right,” Shura nodded to the counter, “the book. Well we’d better get to it then.”

“But what about Shiemi and Yukio?”

“What?”

Rin frowned. “You never found them?”

Shura shook her head and shrugged. “There wasn’t anything left of the pharmacy when I got there. I assumed they got out just fine. Yukio’s with her, right? He’ll take good care of Shiemi. So how about you worry about what’s really important.” She pressed the frying pan back into Rin’s hands, shoving his backwards, and patted him on the shoulder.

“Sure. Right.” He set it aside and followed her out of the store, grabbing the book on his way. “I want to make sure everyone’s alright first. Something just doesn’t feel ri--”

“Okumura!” Shura turned on him. “Think of the bigger picture here. You have a bigger role to play than big brother and doting boyfriend. Get that through your head.”

“They’re my responsibility.”

Shura glowered at him and crossed her arms. “Frustrating little prick.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

With a sigh she scratched the back of her head. Rin watched her, the strange feeling in his gut refusing to leave.

“You’re stubborn, brother, I’ll give you that. Maybe that’s why He’s so fond of you. Must say, I’m not big of a fan.” Shura’s face split down the middle and the skin peeled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I'll be settling into school for the next couple of weeks so chapters will be short or postponed entirely. The regular schedule of Monday/Tuesday should return by Sept 16/17.


	11. Sudden Impact (Part Two)

Shiemi’s face stared down at Rin, a manic smile cracking up through her cheeks. Her hands clasped around his neck, pressing down on his throat until his vision began to blur. Somewhere in the midst of the haze of spots and black, Rin managed to reach out and get ahold of his still sheathed sword. He swung it up and smacked her across the side of the head. Green, viscous ooze spurted from the wound as she staggered upright, smile in place but with a frown denting her forehead. 

Rin sat up, caressing his sore throat and tried to focus on the monster.

“I’m going to kill you like this,” the shapeshifter gnashed Shiemi’s teeth together and lunged at Rin. He rolled onto his side, just out of her reach, and pushed himself onto his feet, sword in hand. It was taking every fiber of his being to keep from pulling it out, but he wasn’t about to break a six year streak, not when he was so close to ending it all.

“You can try to kill me anyway you like, it won’t change the outcome.” Rin dodged long sharp claws and stumbled backwards.

Shiemi’s face fell away, skin splintering and peeling, falling off with a terrific ripping sound and plopping in puddles on the ground. With a hiss, the creature swiped at Rin.

“I will kill Satan and all the demons will fall back into Gehenna with him!” He braced himself as the shapeshifter threw itself against him, pinning him against a wall, the sheathed sword the only thing between them. 

The shapeshifter foamed at the mouth, pushing up against Rin, stinking of rotting flesh. Some of it’s blood splattered across his face as a loud bang disrupted the growling and snarling. The demon froze, face a muddle of flesh and eyes and teeth and nose cavity. There was another blast and the whole amorphous mess exploded before Rin’s eyes. He ducked out of the way to avoid the splash and the body fell away from him.

Another two bursting pops shook the shapeshifter’s corpse as Yukio walked over to his brother, glasses clinging to the very bottom of his nose. He emptied the clip into the demon just as he stopped in front of Rin, not looking at him.

“Yukio...” Rin got to his feet. “I was worried about you and...where’s Shiemi?”

“I don’t know,” Yukio shook his head and held the empty gun up. “I was attacked by Amaimon and woke up with Mephisto.”

“That sounds like a bad hentai manga.” Rin wiped some gore off his cheek with his sleeve. “I’m glad you’re alright but we should check up on Shiemi.”

“If you’re going to have a one-track mind, Nii-san, at least let it be stuck on something more important.” Yukio pointed with the muzzle of his pistol to the book lying a few feet away as he pulled out a fresh clip. “If you’re going to summon Mephisto, get it over with already.”

“You know about the boo--WAIT!” Rin held his hands up, his face scrunching in a deep frown. “You said you were with Mephisto. Why didn’t you bring him yourself.”

Yukio sighed and holstered his gun. “Rin, he’s been avoiding us for years, why would you think that that book would do anything? He can’t help us. All he’s good for is fucking around in the shadows making sure all his pawns are in place.” He looked at Rin for the first time, his eyes bloodshot behind his glasses.

“But Shura said that Arthur...”

“And Shura is always right and trustworthy is she?” Yukio went to the book and picked it up. It was surprisingly light for its size. The selfish love burned a hole in his heart. Despite everything Mephisto had told him, he couldn’t do it. And he was, after all, nothing like his father. If he had been able to save Rin from Satan’s grasp once before then he would be strong enough to do it once again, even if it was for the last time.

“Yukio...I’m glad you’re here. Now we can figure out what to do.” In the same instance Rin finished speaking, Yukio dropped the book, alight with blue flames. He and Rin exchanged glances as the two of them were engulfed, the book flipping open, fire building from the pages, turning the dismal sky a bright blue.

“What did you do?” Rin asked, curious awe in his voice.

“Me? I didn’t do anything!” Yukio rushed forward to close the book. The moment his fingers brushed the pages the flames grew brighter and bigger.

Rin stared up at the sky. The clouds began to part. This could be it. This could be fixing things. He did feel something stirring inside him, something powerful. On instinct he pulled his sword from its sheath before Yukio could stop him. A surge threw him backwards off his feet and onto the ground several feet away. He lay on his back, every inch of his body shaking with some new energy. It felt warm and curiously comfortable and then in a flash panic broke through him. His hand moved on its own, then his legs and he sat up, his head still lolling backwards. In the distance he could hear Yukio calling him but there was a stronger voice ringing in his ears.

_It was only a matter of time, wasn’t?_

Rin’s head snapped upright and Satan was before him, staring him in the eyes.

“No...”

_You’re going to be a perfect fit._

 

* * *

 

Shura arrived a fraction of a second before Shiemi, just as Bon punched Shima to the ground, his own face bloodied and battered. Bon’s eyes connected with Shura’s as he squinted through black puffed skin that spread from his cheek to his eyebrow. She wasn’t entirely sure of the situation, but as Shiemi crashed into the courtyard next to her, Shima staggered back to his feet, head rolling around, arms swinging at his head. It was Shiemi who saw it first, the gaping hole in Shima’s chest, and gasped as Shura drew her sword.

“Summon your Green Man,” she hissed.

Shiemi’s look of confusion dissipated and she nodded firmly. Shura charged forward towards the zombie.

“STOP!”

Everyone froze, Bon stumbling just out of Shima’s reach. Izumo stood to the side, blood trickling down her brow into her eyes. Her clothes were ripped and one of her shoes was coming apart. She lifted Kage Ketsueki and pointed it at Shura then Shima.

“This isn’t your fight. Bon and I, we have to be the ones to finish this. We...we were the ones who were unable to save him. Let us set this right.” Izumo’s eyes brimmed with tears even as she bared her teeth and ran forward. Shima dodged her first attack, deflecting the sword with his arm, causing her to crash into his chest.

“You smell as wonderful as ever, blood included,” he hissed in her ear.

Izumo kicked off him and swung again with all her might. The sword connected with Shima’s hand, slicing deep into his flesh. His head whipped up to face her, a terrible grimacing smile on his lips.

“This is my sword, give it back.” He tugged and Izumo was shook forward but she refused to let go of the hilt. Bon came up behind Shima punched him in the back of the head with both fists.

“I’ll put you to rest, Renzou, I promise. It will be all right.” Bon’s voice was strong, but cracked when he said his friend’s name. “Please forgive me for letting this happen to you.”

Shima dropped to the ground, releasing Kage Ketsueki. Izumo held it over his neck as he lay at her feet. Bon watched her, her arms shaking, so tempted to rip the blade from her hands.

“I love you, Ren-chan.”

“Die, bitch.” Shima was already on his hands and knees.

Izumo brought the sword down on the back of his neck and it slid through in one clean stroke. Before either Izumo or Bon could do anything Shiemi cried out. They turned to her and followed where her finger pointed into the sky. It was alight with blue flame.

“Fuck.” Shura ran a hand through her hair.

“My sentiment exactly.” Mephisto appeared in the midst of them and grimaced at Shima’s body. “That’s horrendous too, isn’t it?”

Izumo looked to Bon, who put an arm around her and led her away to where Shiemi was waiting to treat their wounds with Nee-chan. Shura approached Mephisto.

“What did you do?”

“Me? Nothing. Perhaps you should account for your missing members.” Mephisto sniffed rather indignantly as he glanced down at Shura.

“Yukio and Rin...Rin was going to summon you with the book.”

“You were more than a little misinformed, I’m afraid.” The blue flames disappeared after a minute and the demon looked at Shura. “I wonder what might be able to save you now, my little human friends, because this looks very bleak indeed.”

Shura looked to the sky as it grew dark with ash and clouds again. Her hands were shaking, she hid them behind her back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {I'm dreadfully sorry for how long this update took, but we should be back on schedule of every other Monday/Tuesday from here on out}


	12. Friends and Family

It was as though water had filled his ears, making it impossible to hear through a murky depth. Yes, Yukio Okumura was certain he was drowning as he stood facing his brother. He couldn’t catch his breath, it came in short bursts though his lungs desired more. His chest clenched and strained, needing more. He needed more. More time. More bullets. Yukio’s finger twitched violently, pressing down on the trigger of his pistol over and over, even after the last loud bang had disappeared from the air and only a faint clicking reached his ears.

Rin Okumura was full of bleeding holes now. Two in his right shoulder, one through his gut, another split his collarbone, and a final one through his heart. Still he continued forward, encroaching on his brother. He grasped Yukio’s hand, a sly smile on his face, and brought it backwards with a frightening snap. The pistol fell from Yukio’s hand as it dangled at an unnatural angle and all sound came surging back. Fire roared all around him and Satan, in his brother’s body, leaned in.

“You really are your father’s son.” It was a deep voice with a whisper of his brother’s caught in the mix. Yukio stared ahead over Rin’s shoulder. He was done searching for hope where the was none. He could barely feel the pain of his broken wrist. Whatever came next, he was ready for it. More than anything, he wanted it. Yukio Okumura closed his eyes and waited for his death. 

* * *

 

Shiemi Moriyama gasped as her eyes fluttered open. The back of her head was bruised and bleeding from impact and as she sat up it took a while for the world to stop spinning around her. The last thing she remembered was the blue sky and then a blast of energy knocking the breath out of her. She was halfway across the courtyard from where she’d been standing.

“Shura?” Shiemi spotted Izumo near the tree, her body trashed and ragdolled limply agains the trunk. Standing proved far too difficult for her, so she crawled to her friend. Her knees and palms were bleeding by the time she reached Izumo.

“Izumo-san, please, please be alive. You can’t be dead. You have to be alive.” Shiemi grabbed ahold of Izumo and rolled her over. Her eyes were open, her mouth quivering. Shiemi was hit doubly, relieved that her friend was alive but terrified she was crying so easily.

“Shiemi, it’s the end of the world. Please just call me Kamiki.” Izumo lifted herself up and Shiemi caught her in a desperate embrace, the two of them holding their breath, fearing that if they let it go then the moment would end and the end would begin.

* * *

 

Ryuji Suguro’s heart was broken, his spirit dwindling. He lay on the ground, staring up at the darkening sky. The memories that had kept him alive inside were fleeting, becoming fuzzy imprints on the back of his mind and nothing more. He tried to picture fireworks crashing overhead, sitting with his friends and family at a summer festival. Ryuji closed his eyes and focused on faces. Miwa, with his lumpy head and glasses, shy and awkward, dead and buried deep in the ground. Blaming Ryuji—Bon—for his death. His eyes shot open and Ryuji sat upright. He had  been blasted back aways from the courtyard, through the demolished wall, and luckily enough hadn’t sustained any major injuries. If anything, he was just a little sore.

“Just my luck.” His lip curled in anger and he slammed his fist against the ground. “Just my fucking luck!”

It was impossible to think that he somehow deserved to survive until the end. Not when he’d failed everyone so miserably. His whole life Ryuji had tried to be the leader he knew he was meant to be, the Bocchan everyone asked him to be. Kyoto had burned. Friends had died. His father was gone. None of his accomplishments meant anything to them, or to those who were still alive even now, because what could he do for them? Keep hope alive? Not when he lacked hope himself. Miracles didn’t happen in the real world.

* * *

 

Shura Kirigakure was dying and it was embarrassing. She was crying and gasping for air but she told herself it wasn’t the pain convulsing through her body, but rather the shame that brought tears to her eyes. It had to be. The blast of energy had sent her and everyone flying through the air and she’d gotten the worst of it, she was certain. Perhaps it was for the best. She wouldn’t have been able to bring herself to kill either Yukio or Rin when it came down to it. There had been nights where she’d dreamed about it and thought about how easy she could make it. Killing wasn’t in her nature, no matter how good she was at it. Not people, at least. Never friends.

Blood, her blood, glistened along the metal rod that had been driven through her stomach. Impaling had never been on the list of ways she thought she’d go. People never really got impaled in battle. Slashed, stabbed, burned, any number of ways. She laughed at the ridiculousness of it, blood splashing from her mouth. And then she started coughing and couldn’t bring herself to stop. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Maybe it had missed all her organs. Maybe all she had to do was push and pull herself free.

She grabbed hold of the slick metal, face contorted in pain as she tried and failed to drag her body forward to freedom.

“What a stupid way to die,” she murmured. Shura looked up at the sky, the blue light fading. She’d kick Satan’s ass for this. For hurting her friends, the brothers. Her boys. Her family. “I’m sorry, Shiro. I tried. I guess, ugh, I guess I wasn’t cut out to be a father either.”

She laughed at her own joke until it hurt too much and rested her hands limply on the rod. Everything was cold and tingly, every muscle below her waist falling asleep and becoming numb.

“I wouldn’t say that. I think in your case, the student certainly surpassed the teacher.”

Through tunnel vision and black spots blotting her sight, Shura squinted at the glowing figure. He was just like she remembered him, when he had found her. Not so old, with the superior grin in place. Always knowing something she didn’t.

“Shiro...”

It was a warm embrace that took hold of her body. Shura closed her eyes and appreciated the feeling, like sun on her skin. She’d almost forgotten that kind of warmth.

“You did well, Shura.” Shiro’s hand smoothed over her cheek.

“Thank you.” Her hands fell free of the cold metal and she slumped forward. In the distance she could hear familiar voices calling out to her, but there was nothing she could do. A final line of pinpricks ran up her spine and she was gone.

* * *

 

Kamiki held tight to Shiemi as they rounded the corner. It had been a slow walk across the courtyard, away from the blue light and what ever danger it brought, but they needed to find Shura and Bon before anything elese. Kamiki needed Bon. She needed him alive and well. Kage Ketsueki dragged at her side, but she held onto the blade tightly. She would slit Satan’s throat with it yet. It was the very least she could do.

“Oh no.” 

Kamiki paused and glanced down at Shiemi. She followed her gaze and her heart dropped. Shura was pressed against a fallen wall, a sharp metal pole splitting through her. Shiemi left Kamiki’s side and limped forward. She hated herself for thinking it, for feeling the modicum of jealously, but a small part of Izumo Kamiki thought that it was for the best. That somehow Shura had gotten out before things just got worse. She could only hope that her friend hadn’t suffered.

“She’s dead,” Shiemi said with dry finality. “Help me get her down from here. We can’t leave her like this.”

“Shiemi, we don’t have time.” Kamiki cleared her throat and stared at the ground. “We have to find Boccha—Suguro.”

“Kamiki, she was our friend. It’s the least we can do. We have to make the time, all right?” Shiemi had already started to tentatively feel around Shura for the easiest way to free her. It was hard to watch her work but all Kamiki could find the strength to do was stand there. She couldn’t bring herself to touch another dead body.

“Kamiki,” Shiemi kept her back to her, “please help me. It’s...important.”

Her voice was quiet but firm and Kamiki found herself wandering, placing Kage Ketsueki on the ground as she helped Shiemi. It was numbing, but she knew it was the right thing to do, to help a friend one last time.

* * *

 

Rin Okumura was falling, panic grasping him as he reached out in the darkness, desperate for something to stop his descent. He caught glimpses of what was happening around him. He—no, Satan—was looking at Yukio, watching him lay bleeding on the ground. There were snippets of sound that reached his ears from time to time. But it was fear that took hold of him and blotted out the world. 

He’d fought back at first, given it his all. With every bit of strength he’d still possessed, he’d fought to keep Satan from taking hold. It had failed. He had failed. And now, in fractions of sight, he was going to witness his brother die. There was nothing he could do. As he fell, he felt himself breaking apart, crumbling. It really was the end.

“I won’t die.”

Rin felt a shudder surge through his body. Yukio. In the distance of the all encompassing darkness, he caught sight of his brother looking up at him. Defiant, scared, but ready to fight. Yukio spoke again and there was a long pause before his words reached Rin.

“And I will save my brother.”

All sensation stopped. Rin felt as though his feet were on solid ground once again. Everything started to rush towards, to come into focus, the blackness dissipating. He reached out to his brother and saw his hand move.

A rumble of laughter shook him to his bones and in a flash of pain, he was in the bleak nothingness once again.

“You’ll die beneath my foot, at your brother’s hand. Slowly, painfully.” Satan’s voice roared through his ears, but Rin’s focus was elsewhere. On the tiny sliver of light he could see high above him, so far away. Yukio had not given up. What kind of example would he be setting for his younger brother if he refused to fight as well? There was no time to fear anymore. This was the end and Rin’s final chance to kick Satan’s ass.

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a big deal for me because I've never attempted such a big multi-chapter fic before. But I'm in love with this idea and inflicting pain on my favourite exorcist darlings is a special pleasure. Ahem. Also, the M rating will come into play later on, promises, promises.


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